


the café

by gods



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Post-Pacifist Route, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-08 17:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 40,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5506331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gods/pseuds/gods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Working in a dead end job, only your morning visits to a nearby café brightened up your day. Everything there was hot: the food, the drinks, and, especially, one of the regulars that you had been eyeing for a while.</p>
<p>a grillby/reader with no direction whatsoever</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. december 24

     “It’s storming something fierce out there. Stay safe, okay?”

     “I’ve got it covered, Virus.”

     Virus raised their antenna at you suspiciously, but decided not to nag you further. They spun their swivel chair around to revisit to their work. The workspace they inhabited was a mess, much like your roommate themself.

     Virus was a… seemingly humanoid monster, but with an invisible body, and a cracked television monitor for a head. The odd part about them was not their appearance, but the fact that they worked as an IT. There were times like this when they made sure you were doing alright before getting to work, but, for the most part, you were the one taking care of them. They worked from home, and rarely went outdoors. In other words, they never did the groceries, and they couldn’t cook. You felt that they would legitimately die if you did not come home with dinner every night… But, on that note: “Actually, are _you_ going to be okay?”

     Virus turned to look at you with a gloved hand pressed to their chest. If they could project expressions on their broken screen, there was no doubt that they would look tastefully offended.

     “ _Me?_ Why even bother asking?” Virus’s volume dropped several levels, and they whispered, “I’m never okay.”

     You snorted at your roommate’s melodramatics before giving them a small pat on the head. A hollow note resounded in the living quarters. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll try to get home early with some dinner. Take care of the cat while I’m gone, will you?”

     Virus’s screen was already latched onto their… laptop screen by the time you were finished talking. Seeing a television using a computer… it was surreal. Virus solely waved you off with the repeated flick of their nonexistent wrist. “We take care of each other…”

     After sharing one last goodbye with Virus, and your cat, you jerked on a thin coat and scarf before stepping outside. The storm had already let up. It was just a little windy now, save the powdered snowflakes drifting in from above. Nothing you couldn’t handle.

     You deliberately picked your way down the staircase to the first floor, in your mind hoping no one had decided to pour water down it the day before. Pesky neighbors and their water antics had already landed you in the hospital before, and you were not going to get caught off guard a second time. Your prayers were answered when your feet met the snowy ground without injury.

     You took a glance at your watch to check the time.

     “Oops, gotta go…”

     Versus the blistering cold, you broke out into a sprint.

     At the same time every day, you stopped by a quaint little monster-run café a few blocks away from your shack of an apartment. Lately, you had taken to supporting monsters’ businesses: buying from their groceries, convenience stores, restaurants… you name it.

     But… that wasn’t the only reason you visited the café on such a timely manner each morning.

     You took in the blurred suburban scenery as you rushed by. The neighborhood’s layout was unsystematic. A few houses were speckled here and there beside the apartment you lived in. It was in no way organized… especially with the large numbers of monsters moving in. You always found yourself having more neighbors than you had the day before, but… it wasn’t namely bad. Because of the influx of new residents, the area’s housing values had been significantly reduced, allowing you to rent your condo in the first place.

     “Oof..!” A troubled groan rattled in the air. It sounded like it was coming from one of your neighbors’ front lawns. When you stopped to investigate, you saw Dogamy struggling to erect a… a, uh… very large light-up reindeer decoration?

     “Whoa…!” His grappling with the oversized lawn ornament came to a climax when it teetered on the pins of its feet. You looked at the road ahead, at Dogamy, back to the road ahead…

     “Ah…!” Another troubled yelp from Dogamy.

     … Oh well, the café would have to wait. You trudged through the couple’s front yard, which was submerged under a fresh layer of snow at least a few inches high.

     “Need a hand?” You saddled up next to Dogamy and used your shoulder to prop the decoration up steadily.

     “Oh, good morning!” Dogamy greeted you breathlessly. You just shot him a wink, and decided to leave the pleasantries for later. With you and Dogamy’s combined strength, the two of you were able to properly hoist the decor back up. Once it was properly secured to the ground underneath, Dogamy and you stepped back to admire each other’s handiwork.

     “I appreciate the help.” Dogamy wiped a bead of sweat off his brow.

     “Not a problem; glad I _could_ help.”

     You cupped your hands around your mouth, and huffed into them for some warmth. Your last pair of gloves had gone conveniently missing right at the start of the winter season, so, really, this was all you had to keep frostbite from clipping your fingers.

     You took a glance around the yard, then at Dogamy’s house. “Hey,” You barked to fetch Dogamy’s attention, “where’s Dogaressa at?”

     Dogamy placed both of his paws on his hips and shook his head earnestly. “At work… I have the day off.”

     You smiled sympathetically at him. “Your schedules aren’t lining up like you want them too?”

     Dogamy sighed and scratched his ear. “Nope, not really…” He looked off to the house he and Dogaressa bought together. “We make do, though.”

     “That’s good to hear.”

     Dogamy and Dogaressa had been one of the most amiable of your new neighbors. They moved in shortly before you, but, on the day you showed up, they helped you move your stuff in. They were in no way finished unpacking their own belongings, but they made time for you. The couple even baked you some treats to welcome you to the neighborhood. That wasn’t to say everyone else was not nice… It was just that the couple always found it in themselves to go out of their way to help others. It was something you always liked about them. Often, you would set their charisma comparative to your roommate’s self-loathing and incapability to take care of themself. Ah, well. You loved all of them anyways.

     “By the way, before I forget…” Dogamy dug around in his coat pocket in search of something. After a few moments, he muttered “Aha!” then proceeded to pull out a festive Christmas greeting card. How he kept it in there without wrinkling it… that was left up to your imagination. He extended his arm out for you to take it.

     “What’s this?” You accepted the piece of stationary, taking it into your own hands to inspect it.

     “This was supposed to be for Virus, but…” Dogamy trailed off, “You know them.”

     Holding the piece of paper closer to your face, you could read the golden calligraphy adorning the card. “A… Christmas party?” You squinted even more at it.

     “Yep!” Dogamy rubbed his hands together in excitement. “There’ll be presents and food there with your name on it… er, Virus’s,” He paused momentarily to recover, “… but! We can make arrangements to get that changed up.”

     “You sure I won’t be intruding?” You felt a tinge of self-consciousness. If you agreed to come, you’d be a stranger among monsters who… treated each other like family.

     “As long as you’re comfortable being around other monsters, then we’d love to have you.” Dogamy smiled reassuringly, “You’ve been nothing but kind to us ever since we came to the neighborhood. I’m sure they won’t mind you if you don’t mind them too much.”

     You did not actually have any real reservations about it aside from being the only human in a party full of monsters. You would be a fool to reject free food with your paycheck. You would, without a doubt, wind up stuffing some of the food into your coat, and bringing it back to Virus once the night was over. Then eating that same food for breakfast the next day. Then lunch. Then dinner.

     “In that case,” You tucked the card into the inner folds of your jacket, being careful not to crumple it. “I’d love to; thanks.”

     “Don’t mention it! The more the merrier.” Dogamy nudged at you in jest. “Just swing by tomorrow whenever you’re done with work. If you get off a little early, you can even help set up!”

     “I’ll make sure of it.” You turned your back to him, and lifted your hand up in a farewell salute. “Hey, hope life gets better for you?”

     “It already is.” He smiled at you warmly and returned your wave. “Thanks again, and merry Christmas! We’ll see you tomorrow!”

     You matched Dogamy’s farewell ardor as you stomped back to the path. Once you were out of his line of sight, you allowed your hand to drop to your side. Sticking your hands into your pockets, you resumed a brisk stride down the street. Surely, you were late to the café now.

 

\----

 

     When you pushed the establishment doors open, you relished the warmth that enveloped you. A familiar bell chime rang upon entrance—the shop owner would be coming around any second now. You tapped the snow off the soles of your shoes as the door closed behind you, and browsed the interior of the store: neat and cozy, as always. Your nose twitched involuntarily as a pungent smell overcame your senses. It smelled like hot cocoa.

     “You like it?”

     You looked up to meet the owner of the voice—it was no one else, but the café owner, Hare. Hare, despite his name, was a bird. A monster that resembled an arctic ptarmigan, to be exact. It took you ages to learn how to spell and pronounce that. Hare was excessively white and fluffy around this time of year, although you suspected that it was his coat’s natural go at camouflage and insulation.

     “Yeah.” You stepped further inside the store and away from the door, unzipping your winter jacket. “It was gingerbread the other day, wasn’t it?”

     Hare gave you a hearty laugh as you shrugged off your outer layer of clothes, draping the scarf and coat over your forearm. “Since you come here so often, I thought I ought to appeal to your tastes every now and then.” He posed, aiming wing guns at you (his play on finger guns), eliciting the shake of your head, but a smile nonetheless.

     “Thanks.” You retorted sarcastically.

     He sent back your smile, but tenfold—an impressive grin plastered on his beak. “Anything for my valued customer.” He winked at you playfully. “Same as usual?”

     You nodded your head. “Same as usual.”

     Hare clapped his wings together. He seemed peppier than usual today to get working. “Alright!”

     You watched him saunter off behind the counter to prepare your breakfast. As Hare busied himself with cooking, you took to your normal seat beside the café window after hanging your outerwear on the coat stand beside the door. As you sank into your comfortable arm chair, you couldn’t help but heave a deep sigh. It wasn’t because you were tired, but because you were relieved.

     This place was somewhere you considered to be… homely. The atmosphere was pleasant and welcoming. It was never crowded; Hare made sure of that, dishing out orders faster than you could keep up. He was an efficient worker that was self-employed. You envied him and his diligence at times. If only you could muster up that kind of enthusiasm for your own work.

     Inside, there were always mellow, relaxing tunes wafting throughout the store along with a new, sweet air freshener every day. He probably handpicked the both of them. You felt more relaxed here than in your apartment. Between work, and taking care of your roommate, you didn’t have a lot of time to yourself.

     “Order up!” Hare’s boisterous shout nearly propelled you from your seat and into the table in front of you. He looked at you apologetically as he set your food down. Fresh fruits, French toast, and a hot chocolate on the side… Your appetite was a little spoiled now, though.

     “Sorry, did I startle you?” Hare wrung his wings together. It was painfully obvious that he didn’t mean to scare you intentionally.

     You followed his apology up with a shrug. “An indoor voice would be nice.”

     “Will do!” He exclaimed… but several tiers lower than the last.

     “That’ll do.” You mentally thanked him for heeding your request. You did not need a migraine—and much less, a heart attack—first thing in the morning.

     Hare chuckled and slid into the seat across from you, showing no regard to his prior antics. You narrowed your eyes at him; he was clearly up to no good. To meet your expectations, he leaned forward, and placed his wing on the table. He wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.

     “So…” The tone of his voice was that of a giddy schoolgirl just _rearing_ to gossip. He was one of the nosier monsters you had met—always eavesdropping and looking into other people’s business. However, you did not mind as much as you should have, because… he always shared the details with you.

     You did not respond to his advance, so he drummed his feathered appendage on the tabletop impatiently.

     “What do you want to ask me?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you implicatively. That was certainly unappealing. It was not because Hare was unattractive, but because he _knew_ what he was getting at. The suggestiveness in his voice told you that he had already caught up with your scheming. Your silence beckoned another taunt from him.

     “Come on! Why don’t you just… spill the beans?” He propped his head up with his wing and looked at your wryly. “I mean, I already know. I just want to hear it from _your_ mouth.”

     The nerve of him. Your mouth folded into a thin line, and you looked away with a grimace. You had been so careful this past month just to make yourself discreet. The way Hare treated your vigilance made it seem like you could toss your prudence all away without a care in the world.

     … But, it _was_ his store, and he did have a right to know somewhat… as a friend, and as someone known to blackmail for the information he wanted. Oh, the perks of being self-employed. You lamented your career and life decisions before coming to a consensus over your response. Prolonged silence under his scrutiny just had you more willing to buckle under the pressure. And so, you did.

     “Alright…” If you did not surrender to his pestering now, it would inevitably come and bite you in the ass. In one scenario, he would continue shooting questionable glances in your direction the whole day. You did not want him of all people bringing attention to your presence. In retrospect, if he knew already, he could have just nailed your secret bright as day on the door of his shop. You held him to a higher standard than that morality wise, but… maybe that was his way of showing mercy.

     “Has he…” You paused to steady your breath, “come by today?”

     Hare leaned in closer. “Who?”

     You quietly hissed through your teeth. “You know who!”

     He shot you a knowing wink. “Oh, but I don’t.”

     You let out an exasperated sigh, and contemplated slamming your forehead into your food. Maybe a headache, or an ambulance, would force him to leave you be. Coming here every other day was embarrassing enough, but pleading _guilty_ to the act was a whole other story. You would have loved nothing more than to take a raincheck on this occasion, but Hare’s oppressive stare made you exceedingly aware… that he could rat you out—anytime he wanted.

     “… Is…” You gulp your shame down your throat. No going back now. “Has Grillby come by today already …?”

     Hare slapped his hands down on the table in self-proclaimed victory. “Nope!”

     “Hush!” You stuck your index finger in front of his beak, stifling the urge to tackle him to the floor.

     “Oh, yeah, right, my bad…” He dipped back into a whisper while bobbing his head in compliance.

     You hated to admit it, but the reason you came to the café every day was to see… Grillby. The flame monster had piqued your interest last month when your coworkers had forced you to come to a drinking party with them. It was just an average mixed monster and human bar with nothing special about it… except the bartender.

     Laying it down straight, Grillby was suave as _hell_. His stature and professionalism on the job entranced you, and his chivalry was what really tugged at your heartstrings. When he spoke to you, he was kind… but that was his job, and he meant nothing more by it. Despite that… you couldn’t help yourself. You were naturally drawn to him, and you spent a majority of the night finding your eyes drifting back to his figure as he served other bar patrons. He looked clean and well kempt… the polar opposite of your hygienic mess. The disparity discouraged you from approaching him forthright, so you kept to yourself the whole night, until events played out in a way that forced the two of you to interact. The morning after that, stopping by Hare’s bistro to unwind from the tiresome night proved… fruitful. The bird had information for you.

     To your luck or misfortune–you didn’t know which of the two it was yet—Grillby _apparently_ stopped by Hare’s café every single morning, earlier than you normally did… or so Hare told you. In spite of your suspicions, Hare had stayed true to his words. After arriving at the café earlier in the morning recursively, you had struck gold. Now, you were expecting Grillby to swing by again today to order breakfast. He never stayed to eat, though. Just picked up his food and left for what you assumed was his work. You only had a brief window to see him, and, so, you took every opportunity to use it.

     “I was a little late, so I thought I would’ve missed him by now.” You folded your hands on the table in front of you, pondering Grillby’s tardiness. It was not as if he had a meeting to keep with you, but… he was almost _always_ punctual. Sometimes, you could even count down to his arrival by the second.

     “I’m not really sure.” Hare shrugged and shook his head in response, acting as if the issue was of the least importance.

     “I hope he’s okay…” You muttered under your breath, more to yourself than the bird sitting across from you.

     “What? Grillby?” Hare started in disbelief, “He’s a big guy; he can take care of himself!”

     You rested your head on the frosty glass pane and watched the street outside in helpless abandon. The windows were partially glazed over with frost, despite the heat emanating from the coffee shop. The streets were also iced over, enticing people to take to the subways today to get to and fro. The only thing that flickered in the streets were the worn out street lamps lining the sidewalk. There was no familiar flame to be found.

     At your unwillingness to carry the conversation, Hare shook his head disappointedly. “I never expected you of all people to fall so hard for a guy!” Hare’s wings shot up into the air in exasperation. “What’s so great about him, anyway?”

     You gave Hare a sided glare before retiring to the window to fixate yourself upon the empty street. You delved for the answer to Hare’s question inside your own head.

     “Uh…” You drew a blank. “… Stuff.”

     “’Stuff’? What does that even mean?” Hare prodded at your head with the dull end of your fork, hoping the more bothersome he got, the more inclined you would be to give him answers.

     “I mean,” You lift your head up from the glass and wave your hand to shoo his wing away. “I can’t explain _why_ I like him.”

     There it was. You admitted it, point blank. By the time you had realized what you said, Hare was already sneering at you with the most shit eating grin he could muster. You rolled your eyes at him. You’d live, but you couldn’t say the same for Hare if he let your secret out. You just resumed your former position, peering out the window.

     You would have to leave soon for work, so if you could just sneak one peek at Grillby if he passed by… You would be prepared to meet anything the day was bound to throw at you. You felt childish doing something like this, but… it kept you sane.

     The time he came around was always a little earlier than your work, and… it just lifted your spirits to see him in the morning. It was a fleeting puppy crush, but the sight of him really did wonders for the rest of your day. No matter how much shit you were forced to deal with at work, you held it in your mind that you’d be able to see Grillby the next morning, and everything would be okay. Thanks to that mindset, the last month had been pure bliss. Virus questioned why you got up a little earlier every day, and pointed out that you may, or may not, have had a bounce in your step as you got ready for work… but that was Virus.

     Hare was getting bored of just watching you, so he helped himself to your silvers. He toyed with your fork and knife relentlessly, flipping them in the air, and spinning them across the table. Eventually, he decided, it was time to progress the conversation, unless he was game on being bored out of his mind.

     “Love at first sight?”

     “No, that’s stupid.” You flat out rejected the idea. It wasn’t love, just… ‘like.’ You were taken by his appearance and gait, not him as a person. In fact, you didn’t know Grillby at all, aside from the snippets you had heard from his daily conversations with Hare. Even then, it was just… formalities. ‘Hello.’ ‘How are you?’ ‘What’s on the menu today?’ Things like that didn’t provide you with any reprieve from your lack of association with him.

     Hare deadpanned. “You haven’t spoken to him once since you started camping out here.”

     “… This here.” You patted the table firmly. “This is a good distance.”

     Your infatuation with Grillby didn’t equate to a willingness to approach him. You were content remaining a distance from him, and if you could just rely on that… it felt fulfilling enough. You weren’t exactly sure how to approach him, or what you would do after that, anyway. As long as you could remain in this fantasyland, it was good enough for you.

     “… Actually, now that I think about it…” Something previously forgotten popped into Hare’s mind. He was… a bit of a birdbrain, for lack of better wording. Short term memory was his greatest enemy. Hare tapped his wing on the tip of his beak. “Grillby _did_ call earlier, and with a _large_ order, to boot.”

     Upon the mention of Grillby, you livened up, tearing your eyes away from the scenery, and back to Hare. “Of what?”

     “Well, aren’t we getting a little nosy?” Hare teased your curiosity, giving you a haughty smirk knowing he had ensnared your attention… and loyalty. The blatant frown on your face had him snickering at you. “Just playin’ with ‘ya.” He waved his wing at you in an attempt to dismiss the frown from your face. It didn’t work. “It was a lot of Christmas-themed pastries… Maybe he’s going to a party?”

     You made the connection right away.

_‘It couldn’t be, could it?’_

     …

You definitely were not _that_ lucky.

     While you were preoccupied with your own thoughts, Hare spotted something—or somebody—out of the corner of his eye. “Well, well, well… What do we have here?” A throaty laugh rumbled from his throat. “Speak of the devil.”

     You snapped your gaze up from the table. “He’s here?!” You whispered breathlessly. You had to stop yourself from slamming your fists on the table as adrenaline coursed through your veins. You whipped your head around to confirm his presence, and, lo and behold, Grillby was out there, clad in his usual outdoor winter attire: framed glasses, an overcoat, woolen scarf, and slacks… formal outerwear. It suited him, and so did the weather. He was looking as handsome as ever.

     As he neared your position beside the window, you sunk back into your seat, and propped your head up with your arm. If anything, _now_ was the time to begin stress eating. You looked away from the window to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible. All the misgivings that had built up inside you began flowing out from under your breath.

     “Calm down; calm down.” Hare repeatedly lowered his wings down in front of you in mock reassurance.

     That’s when it hit you.

     “Get back to the register…!” You frantically thrashed your hands in the air, motioning for him to get the hell away from you, and back to the counter. Grillby would definitely notice you if Hare was hanging around your table.

     “Yeah, yeah.” It was Hare’s turn to roll his eyes. He stood up from his seat and pat your head with his wing. “Have some faith in your _wingman_ , will you?” He drawled his words out sarcastically, and strolled back to the register at a mockingly slow pace.

     What he said just now was… dangerously suggestive. Not in a bad way, by all means, but… You shivered at the weight of his words. You didn’t know what to expect next. Hopefully that was just… one of his puns, and just that.

     The thing is… he _never_ cracked puns.

     You heard the café door open behind you. The sound of boots crushing snow underfoot as someone entered the café was all too prominent.

     “Hey, man! Running a little late today?” At Hare’s prompt, without looking, you could hear the person in question stalk up to the counter.

     As Hare began interacting with the customer, you realized your food had gone untouched. To make yourself seem less suspicious, you began nibbling away at it. As you sipped on your hot chocolate, you eavesdropped on the conversation between Grillby and Hare. You would put up with the guilt later.

     “Just stopped by an old friend’s house. Is my order ready?” That was definitely Grillby’s voice. It was soft, deep, mellow, and many other soothing adjectives that were lost to you at the moment. His voice never failed to relax you, no matter how anxious or tense you were.

     “Yessir! Just gimme a moment here…” You could hear Hare’s footsteps move away from the counter. You took the opportunity to glance over your shoulder at the area of the register… With Grillby’s presence confirmed, you came back to your food while nodding your head solemnly. He was there, in all the flesh and bone he didn’t have.

     “Do you need some help?” Grillby placed his hands over the counter, leaning over to get a good luck at Hare as he burrowed through some boxes in the back.

     “I’m fine, big guy. Just give it a second.” From a mountain of boxes, Hare’s wing burst forth and gave him a little wave. Grillby scratched the back of his head as he waited by the counter patiently.

     The excessive shuffling and throwing of boxes could be heard once more… you were sure most of them weren’t even empty. That was Hare’s problem, though. Soon, the barrage of cardboard related sounds ceased, and you heard Hare set something heavy on the counter. “One more trip…” The symphony from earlier was repeated. After Hare dropped off the last round on the countertop in front of Grillby, he began ringing his purchase up on the cash register. “Alright, so… that’ll be…”

     While the transaction was taking place, to your horror, your watch went off. You silenced the sound as soon as the first note came out. Taking a glance at it, you remembered something important. Hare, apparently, was not the only one with a case of short term memory this morning.

     Yesterday, your boss had instructed you to arrive at work early today. The thought had just slipped from your mind. Who would even remember that kind of offhand comment over the course of a busy day? Maybe your tightass boss would, but… He should have at least texted you as a reminder, but… that was your boss for you. Your task for the day was to help him fix a mess he, himself, had caused… The corporate ladder was a tall and painful one.

     As the seconds ticked away, you took inventory of your options. If you left now, you could make it on time. Otherwise… you would meet your boss’s wrath. You had not been late many a times before, but… your colleagues always were. You were the most responsible of the bunch, and if you went awry… your boss would lose it. When your boss didn’t have his morning go right, no one had a good day.

     At the back of your mind, you could hear Hare count Grillby’s money by hand… Although, you weren’t sure why he bothered in the first place. You thought about it and… with both Hare and Grillby preoccupied, this was about as good a time to leave as any. If you were lucky enough, neither of them would notice you until you stepped right out that door.

     You stood from your seat, being careful to make as little noise as possible. You packed the remaining food on your table into a small pouch, and tiptoed to the side of the door to claim your jacket and scarf. You snuck a quick glance at Grillby and Hare… The two were caught up in a conversation of their own. You’d be able to make it out unscathed.

     After dressing yourself for battle with the arctic temperatures outside, you snatched up your belongings from the table, and made your way to the door. But, of course… you felt the urge to sneak in just one more glance at Grillby. It wouldn’t make a difference, right? You just wanted to see him one last time before you went to work… that was all. No one would notice, and it would not be a big deal. There was nothing that was keeping you from doing so.

     Right before you got to the door, you angled your head slightly to take a good look at Grillby. He was there, standing tall and firm with a fixed posture. His broad back was turned towards you, and all you could see were the flames on the back of his head dancing in the warm lights of the coffee shop. His gloved hand had reached up to adjust his glasses ever so slightly, and the other was placed on the pile of boxes on the counter. Every minute movement he made enraptured you.

     The sight of him… eased your worries. You would be able to get to work just fine. Nothing would go wrong, and you would be able to deal with your boss’s heckling even if you did end up clocking in late. It was of no consequence to you. Maybe you would have to stay a little later to make up for that… But, as long as you could wake up the next morning, take your seat as usual, and have a cup of good old hot chocolate while waiting for Grillby… life was good.

      As your hand touched for the handle of the coffee shop’s door, you heard a voice blatantly directed at you.

     “Hey, you.” It was Hare’s unmistakably shrill voice.

     You forced yourself to crane your neck towards the boxes on the counter. You really thought they would’ve obscured Hare’s view, but… You forgot. Hare was a bird, and birds always had a bird’s eye view. That was no joke. Grillby had yet to turn around, and so, you attempted to silently communicate with Hare. You made X’s with your arms, shook your head aggressively, and slid your finger across your throat, all to no avail. He renewed his call to you.

     “Yes, you. Get your lazy ass up here!” Hare. What the _hell_ was he thinking?

     To your dismay, Grillby turned around to look at you. He had an eyebrow raised, looking just about as confused as you were, although you had a good indication as to what was about to go down. No matter how you looked at it, this was going to go down in Hare’s favor. He was holding all the cards, and your fate was in the palm of his hand.

     Between Hare and you, all that was shared was communicative stares. Yours were murderous. Hare’s were smug. Grillby, on the other hand, remained expressionless. For gods’ sake, he didn’t have palpable eyes for all you could tell.

     You took one last glance at the door, then lowered your hand reluctantly. Escape had just slipped through your fingers. Of course you weren’t going to be as lucky as you had hoped to be. It never worked out that way. The only thing you could do now was… hold your head up high, take it all in a stride, and hope for the best.

     You left the comfort of the exit’s vicinity, and stepped up to the counter with some newfound confidence.  You took the debacle of the encounter as an invitation to make a courageous move. As you stood next to Grillby, you looked directly at him, and nodded your head in greeting.

     “Hey, Grillby.”

     To your relief, Grillby nodded back, acknowledging your arrival. You held back the sweat threatening to cascade down your forehead. Was it hot in here, or was it just you? As you faced Hare, you hoped the intent to kill was spelled out on your face. He ignored it.

     “Grillby here,” Hare paused to motion towards the flame with his wings, “needs some help carrying these boxes. Think you can handle that?”

     You restrained yourself from strangling Hare right there and then. Was he even listening to the conversation earlier? He just unbalanced the equilibrium that you had worked to maintain for the past month. He landed a potential catastrophe into your lap. The fear of embarrassing yourself beyond repair in front of Grillby sank into your stomach. What if you took a horrendous fall right in front of him? Dropped everything he purchased on the ground? Disappointed everyone the pastries were for? Ended up sprawled and broken at his feet? The constructed situation in your mind sent shivers down your spine. Lord, if that was what was going to happen, you would be having roast fowl for Christmas dinner.

     In the face of your own bloodlust, you maintained a calm tone. “No problem.” You peer up at Grillby, who was already looking down at you. “You wouldn’t mind?”

     “If you don’t.” Grillby’s reply was accompanied with a small nod at both you and Hare.

     “Well, you heard the man.” Hare picked up a stack of the boxes and flung them at you. In one swift motion, you slammed your drink on the counter, and jumped forward to catch all of the pastry boxes in your arms. To your surprise, you had caught all of them. You didn’t even want to see the look on Grillby’s face if you had managed to drop even one. “Chop, chop! The food’s getting cold.”

     Grillby looked tense; he was poised to catch the boxes in your arms if they threatened to fall. “… Are you alright?”

     His concern for you nearly did make you drop the boxes, but you arched your back so your cheek could support them. “No, but thanks for asking.” If you said you were, that would be a lie.

     You adjusted the bag of food under your arm, and positioned yourself more appropriately to support the load weighing down on you. Hiding your face behind the boxes, you shot a disgusted glare in Hare’s direction.

     “Actually,” Hare took drink from the counter and snatched the bag from under your arm, “You won’t be needing this…” He proceeded to dunk them into the nearest garbage can. That was the last straw. That bird would not be getting out of this scot free.

     Hare, more serenely in his efforts, helped Grillby lift the larger stack of boxes up from the counter. You felt a little ashamed of the fact that you were the one carrying the lighter load, but you just rested thankful Hare didn’t decide to throw _all_ the boxes at you. After Hare mushed Grillby and you away, all he did on his part was open the door to escort the two of you out.

     “I’ll be seeing you!” Hare waved Grillby and you off as you exited his store.

     “In hell.” You whispered under your breath.  
     “What was that?” Hare smiled at you threateningly.

     “Nah… nothing.” Apparently, you had picked up one of Virus’s bad habits: snarky side comments.

 

 ----

 

     As Grillby and you drew further away from the café, Hare remained at the doorway of his café… watching. You didn’t dare talk while he was still in earshot; you weren’t quite sure yet if his hearing was as good as his eyesight. When Hare finally withdrew, he disappeared with a smug look on his face. A job well done for him, you supposed… torturing you like this. Glancing back over your shoulder, you sighed in irritation.

     “Sorry.” You heard a low voice right beside you, almost causing you to jump. Grillby was so quiet, you had nearly forgotten he was walking right next to you.

     “What for?” You questioned his sudden apologetic tone.

     Grillby lifted up the boxes in his arm slightly as he shrugged. “Hare.”

     You dismissed Grillby’s worries with the shake of your head. “Don’t worry about it. He asked me on purpose to make me late for work. I mean, that’s Hare for you.” That was a lie. Hare, in all of his scheming shenanigans, had set you up for a different reason… whether it was for your benefit or undoing, you would decide upon it later. That would also determine the fate of your feathered friend.

     “I can take these by myself if you’d like.” Grillby offered in hopes of making up for Hare’s pronounced crudity.

     Realistically, you should have accepted the offer. The chances of the situation turning out to be in your favor were as bleak as your escape from the coffee shop just a few minutes ago. But… You shook your head. There was no way you could pass up spending time with Grillby. You are the one who wanted to get to know him better, even if you didn’t express that desire explicitly.

     “I can’t just leave you to carry these all by yourself, now can I?” You adjust the boxes in your arms to get a good look at him.

     Grillby met your gaze for a moment, before looking straight down the path once again. The conversation seemed to meet a dead end right there. At that moment, you wanted to dive right into the nearest trash can to escape the tense atmosphere you created.

     “… Thank you.” Grillby’s appreciation for your help came in a quiet voice.

     “What?” The words that dropped out of your mouth portrayed your shock quite clearly. Did Grillby just… thank you? Looking back at him, his line of sight now rested on you. “Oh, uh…” You quickly looked away to escape his glance, and gave him a half-hearted shrug. “Don’t… mention it?”

     When he looked away, you found yourself the time to bounce back from the initial astonishment. You secretly let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in the first place. Your heart had nearly leapt right out of your throat thanks to Grillby’s unexpected show of gratitude.

     You trudged in the snow at least an arm’s length away from Grillby, picking your way down the icy pavement. The walk was quiet, save the few cars that drove lazily by. The neighborhood was relatively peaceful. As before, you would’ve gauged the silence as awkward, but, now, being next to Grillby… it was actually more comforting than watching him from afar. You savored his presence at your side. This was something you could get used to.

     The audacity of your own thoughts startled you. You were being a child. This was a one-time deal, and Hare had helped you get it. You weren’t so sure how you should be feeling towards him now. Hateful, thankful, or indifferent… he’d ask you for details tomorrow, for sure. Maybe, if you asked him, he’d be able to pull off something like this again…? You’d done well so far, from what you could tell. You spoke to Grillby in a level voice—not too overexcited. You may have been far too casual than you would have liked, but being composed was all you could ask for at times like these.

     You were more than overjoyed given this exclusive chance, but you could feel your arms getting sore. The winter’s iciness had begun seeping through your jacket as well.

     “By the way… where are we heading?” You felt a little annoyed at yourself for not asking earlier.

     Grillby nodded his head, motioning that the destination was farther down along the road. “Just up ahead.”

     “Haha, that’s good.” The giggle that bubbled up from you wasn’t exactly a positive one. If you were getting closer to Grillby’s stop, then… you would have to leave his side sooner. You warily looked at him from the corner of your eye. You considered falling behind a little to see him more clearly, but you decided against it. That… wasn’t important. If he continued going to Hare’s store after today, you could just… observe him as you always had. Right then, you wanted to be just a little closer to him… Was that too much to ask?

     You were wracked with a sudden shiver. Your lightweight jacket provided you with little relief from the frigidity. It wasn’t as thick as you would have liked it to be. You were cheap. Your jacket was sheep. So, of course, you’d be getting scorched by the cold… cheaply.

     “Is something wrong?” Grillby’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

     “Oh, uh… Just, uh…” You scrunched up your face. “Getting a little chilly, huh?”

     Grillby stopped walking and turned to face you, and you reciprocated his movements. His face, normally void of any distinct facial features, materialized the shape of eyebrows in the area above his glasses. One of them was raised in inquisitiveness. “You’re cold?”

     “Hm?” Now that you think about it, Grillby was a flame monster. The temperature probably didn’t affect him. “Yeah, a little.” You shrugged his question off. No need for him to go out of his way for you, or ask how you were doing. You didn’t need any of that. If you weren’t frozen, you were dying. You couldn’t afford fancy, fur parkas, or whatever people wore during the winter months. Your salary was just enough to support Virus and yourself with living essentials, and that was it. The only luxury you had allowed yourself recently was the morning trips to the café, which was already stressing your budget.

     Despite your nonchalance, Grillby seemed to take note of the temperature’s effects on you. Every shake of your head, tense of your face, and tremble of your shoulders… He caught them all, and he could tell you were hiding your failing perseverance in the weather. “… Walk closer.” The command came out low and husky; it sounded assertive, and somewhat… weird to hear from him.

      All you could do was gawk at him, looking for some kind of answer in the dancing flames. Your confused look prompted him to continue.

     “It’s…” Grillby paused to find the right words to say. “It’s warmer… beside me.” Grillby’s flames grew a few shades redder as he spoke, and he looked away to hide it. Even with his attempts to obscure his flushed face, you saw through him. You felt a little guilty for making him say something so embarrassing to explain his polite gesture. He _was_ made of fire, so maybe walking closer to him would do you some justice from the cold.

     The spontaneity of the offer almost coaxed you into rejection, but… you accepted it. This would never happen again, so… why turn down his offer? _‘Live in the moment!’_ is what Virus always said… but, you weren’t too sure how taking advice from a shut-in would help you in real life situations. It was probably more of a sardonic side comment than advice anyways.

     “… Thank you.”

     Grillby settled back into a slow pace so you wouldn’t have to struggle to keep up. You took the invitation to amble up beside him… a little closer than before. However, you were still a little too far off for the majority of Grillby’s warmth to reach you. Grillby, noticing your reluctance, decided to do what you couldn’t—he brushed up right against you. This caused you to jump, but the heat that seeped out from his coat relaxed you. Ironically, it cooled your nerves down. Now that the distance was closed, your arms bumped together as you strolled down the path.

     “Is… this okay?” Grillby looked down at you to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable.

     As a matter of fact, you felt the exact opposite. “Yes.” You sighed in content. “Thank you, Grillby.” You flashed him a sideways smile.

     Grillby looked a little taken aback by this, but he immediately dismissed his disconcertion. He concealed his emotions well, but you noticed his subtlety. After a whole month of watching him, mood shifts like this were easy to identify… and it was an even easier task up close.

     “Sorry, did I say something wrong?” You leaned forward to enter his peripheral vision.

     Grillby shook his head. “… Earlier…” He looked down at the boxes he was carrying before continuing. “I’m surprised you remembered my name.”

     The realization hit you like a bus. _You weren’t supposed to remember Grillby’s name._ The last time the two of you should have met was at the drinking party last month. Beads of sweat began dripping down your forehead. Nothing you could do to stop them now.

     How were you supposed to… respond to that? How _could_ you respond to that? If you didn’t handle this with the utmost caution, Grillby would find out what you had been doing for the past month. As Hare would put it, you were borderline stalking him. You weren’t _stalking_ Grillby, per se, you were just… Watching him closely? No matter what way you put it in, it sounded horrible. Terrible. You couldn’t explain yourself.

     Would Grillby be appalled by the fact you had been showing up at the café constantly just to see him? Anxiety crept up your back, and you suppressed a little tremble. That would be pretty bad. You couldn’t mess this up now, or your daily dose of sunshine would literally be ripped right out of your hands… and on your own account. You were not about to let that happen. You had to play this off, and smoothly.

     “How could I forget you?” You let out a small laugh, and presented to him one of your most genuine smiles. The smile you showed him wasn’t intended to amplify the honesty of your words. It may have even been unintentional, to some extent. When it came to Grillby, you found it increasingly hard to control how happy you felt around him. “After all, you were so nice to my colleagues and I when we went to your bar last month.”

     It was true. The drinking party last month… your coworkers were a **mess**. It was downright embarrassing being associated with a party of drunks. You were the only sober one in the whole group. You were good at keeping alcohol down, and you didn’t feel like taking that many shots, anyways. To add onto that, you had Virus to get home too, and you didn’t trust them enough to take care of you. Best case scenario, they would drag you to the couch or the bathroom floor. All the more reason _not_ to get wasted.

     You could’ve sworn you saw Grillby’s shoulders shake with a low chuckle before he replied. “… I’m honored; thank you.”

     Another thanks from him had you blushing. You avoided his eyes by glancing to the side; you were certain he was looking at you. The way his arm brushed yours every other step made you even more aware of him than before. You pushed yourself to not clam up in front of him. “Sorry about them, actually—my, uh, coworkers. They can be a bit of a… handful.”

     You were never good with handling drunks, but, Grillby… When things looked like they were getting out of hand, he stepped in. His presence seemed to naturally temper people, no matter how rambunctious they got. He helped you calm them down, _and_ he helped you carry them out after calling a taxi for them. One of them was so out of it that you had to personally see her home as an escort. Throughout all of that, Grillby was there. You thought he was so caught up in the chaos of it all, he wouldn’t have remembered you, but…

     “It’s good to see you again.” The words that left Grillby’s mouth felt like silk over your ears. Your chest swelled up with pride. Grillby had remembered you. No doubt he was just being courteous by it, as he always was, but those words… you felt dizzy with joy. You couldn’t hold back the trembling smile that crawled onto your face, and the tinge of red that stained your ears and cheeks. All you could do was turn your head away.

     “Aha… thanks. I’m…” You found yourself nervous to continue, but did so regardless. You had to let him know you were just as gratuitous. “Glad to see you again, too.”

     Grillby had just acknowledged you, and indirectly praised you. You wanted to keep talking to him, and keep him talking to you. You had to keep the conversation going for the sake of your own heart, lest it explode and wither away.

     “By the way…” You looked up at him sheepishly. “Thanks for helping me out after that.” A straightforward thanks was the first thing that should’ve been in order. It just had escaped you until then.

     Grillby’s flame flickered slightly at your words. Was he… happy that you thanked him? “Here as well. It was a pleasure to serve you.” It may have been your imagination, but… Grillby placed emphasis on the ‘you’ at the end of his sentence. If it had some underlying meaning, you did not dare read in between the lines. If you got too deep, you wouldn’t be able to get out.

     You could have let the conversation die right there, but… “I really hate going to work outings like that, but…” Your eyes jumped erratically from side to side, trying to find the right words to say. “I really enjoyed going to your bar. So…” You trailed off, completely losing your train of thought.

     “… Then… why don’t you come again?” Grillby’s proposition was sincere. It needed not to be questioned, but the messaged spilled into your mind as if it were encrypted.

     You blinked once. You blinked twice. You held back blinking three times at Grillby. The incredulity of the situation… you didn’t know how to react. You looked away from Grillby and at the path straight ahead to hide the defined shock on your face. Did he just invite you to his bar?

     Grillby peeked down at you once more, checking to see if you were still responsive. “You can drop by my bar whenever you want… with or without your coworkers.” The repetition made it clear as day.

     Yes, he definitely just did. You had to hold down the heat threatening to rise up to your cheeks, as well as the urge to accept his invitation without the slightest hint of hesitation. You forced yourself to maintain composure.

     “Uh, I…” You bit the bottom of your lip, admittedly somewhat embarrassed that this was the excuse you came up with. “I don’t have the money.” Anything to make you sound more modest, you guessed.

     Grillby laughed at the way your shoulders dropped in dejection. Now that… was an exotic sound. You hadn’t heard him laugh before, setting aside the faint chuckles from time to time. He looked slightly embarrassed he had sunken so low as to laugh at you, and lowered his head a little to press nearer to the boxes in hand. “Food and drinks are on me.”

     “Really?” Fake modesty was your greatest attribute. “I couldn’t…”

     “… You thought I’d have you help me without a tip?” Grillby’s voice sported a twang of disbelief and amusement at your humble demeanor.

     “… Maybe.” Believe it not, you had to convince yourself you weren’t a wandering charity sometimes.

     “Don’t worry.” Grillby leaned in closer to you so that he could lower his voice to a whisper. “I’ll take care of you.”

     When you felt the ambiguous warmth thawing your head, you spun around. Instead of meeting Grillby’s side as you expected, you found yourself just inches away from his face. Up close, you could feel his flames licking at your skin. Before, you had thought that his face was something static like Virus’s screen, but, because of the close proximity… you could see the many distinct flames that defined him pulsing with life. Behind his glasses, not only were his eyebrows visible, but white flames akin to the shape of eyes had formed. His eyes looked to be half-lidded, holding your gaze captive with lax intensity.

     You found yourself speechless—at a loss for words. Had Grillby moved any closer to you, you might have been able to graze your lips against him. Just the thought of it made you overheat. So much for maintaining composure. Your arms began to tremble, surrendering to the unyielding force of gravity. With the boxes’ supports weakened, the stack edged dangerously close to collapsing.

     Thinking back to the café earlier… you really needed to stop making those deadly premonitions. You flew into a frenzy, and grappled at the boxes in a flailing attempt to save them and yourself. To your surprise, you briefly saw Grillby raise his arm to steady the heap of boxes, preventing them from falling out of your arms. He had shifted the weight of his entire stack into one arm within a moment’s notice to come to your assistance. You wanted to sink into the depths of your scarf in embarrassment. Maybe… Grillby was more capable than you took him to be.

     “Careful…” Grillby’s voice was husky, yet playful in tone. The accompanying seasoned chuckles reminded you that your face was, essentially, on fire. Was he laughing at you because you were flustered? If it wasn’t for the cold sweat you broke out into, your face would have been completely drowned in several different shades of red.

     “Thanks...” You managed to mutter from behind your scarf as you juggled the weight of the boxes.

     When you looked at him anew, he had already withdrawn to his original position. It was as if… nothing had happened. The only noticeable difference was that a thin line in the shape of a craggy smile had formed across his face, and you could make out the shape of his eyes behind the lens of his glasses. Apparently, he _was_ capable of forming facial features… and they didn’t look half bad.

 

\----

 

     You should have realized it sooner, but… you and Grillby were going back the way you came from your house. It didn’t really come to you until after he had rescued you from becoming victim to your own psychic predications. However, the realization was better late than never, because, now, you were able to confirm your suspicions: Grillby was acquainted with Dogamy and Dogaressa.

     That… made sense. Most of the monsters that moved into this area were already acquainted with one other… except, maybe Virus. Virus was, after all, from the capital. The monsters here were from a local community that settled in a town called Snowdin underground, which was far away from the capital itself. You decided not to ask Grillby about it, though. If you pestered him too much about his life before coming above ground, you feared you may run him off… and that would be bad, seeing as he was acting as your personal heater at the moment.

     Upon your arrival at the doghouse, Grillby and you stopped in front to take in the sight. It looked like Dogamy had shoveled some snow off his driveway while you were gone, and had taken to putting up some Christmas lights… on a very shaky ladder.

     “… How do we go about this… without startling him?” The question was geared more towards yourself than Grillby, but you asked it nonetheless.

     The outcome of the situation would not differ no matter what you did. If you called out his name, he’d turn in shock, then fall off. If you walked up to him, and did the same, he’d turn in shock, then fall off. Really, there was just no good way to address someone standing on a shaky ladder.

     “Let’s get closer.” On Grillby’s cue, you stayed at his hip as he trudged up the driveway to greet Dogamy. Grillby and you stood beside the ladder which Dogamy was using. He was so preoccupied with the lights, he didn’t seem to notice you.

     “Dogamy.” Grillby, someone you would’ve expected to have all the tact in the world, called out to Dogamy without any reservation. And, as expected, Dogamy turned in shock, then fell off into the snow below. You and Grillby just watched it all play out. “Sorry, did I startle you?” Grillby offered Dogamy a hand as he lay in the snow.

     Dogamy’s snout twitched as the rest of his body remained motionless. “… I know you get a kick out of doing that.” Dogamy scoffed at Grillby, but took the hand offered to him anyways. “Doesn’t it ever get old?”

     Grillby hoisted Dogamy up, setting him up right on his feet. “I don’t do it intentionally.”

     Dogamy laughed right in Grillby’s face. The apology sounded sincere enough, but Dogamy wasn’t buying any of it. “Yes, you do.” He tried elbowing Grillby’s arm, but Grillby stepped out of the way in a dodge. The ease of Grillby’s movements had Dogamy simply shaking his head as he began brushing snow off of his coat. As he did, he lifted his head up to see you standing a few feet away. “Oh, hey there! Back so soon?”

     “Yeah, and with your food.” You lifted up the boxes in your hands to show to Dogamy.

     He thanked you, but couldn’t help but shake his head. “Hare made you do that, did he?” Apparently, you were not the only one acquainted with Hare’s antics.

     You nodded in agreeance. “Who else?”

     Dogamy sighed and pressed a paw up to his forehead, smoothing out the creases that formed. “That bird… he hates going out in the cold. He doesn’t even do deliveries in the winter.”

     “Well…” You nod your head in the direction of the house. “We can make a toast to that at the party tomorrow.”

     “Cheers!” Dogamy exclaimed derisively. A laugh was shared between the two of you.

     “Shall we go inside?” Grillby was already making his way toward the door before anyone responded.

     From there, Dogamy invited you into his humble abode… or… well, maybe it wasn’t as humble as you thought it would be. Overall, it was… gaudy. It looked like Dogamy had spent more time decorating the inside of the house than the outside. You assumed it was all in preparation for the party tomorrow, so… that was sure to be an experience.

     Dogamy had you and Grillby set the boxes of sweets in his kitchen, and offered to brew you a hot drink, but you declined politely. You were already late for work as you were, and decided that any later would get you fired. As you took your leave, Grillby followed suit, saying that he should be getting to his bar as well. As the two of you left Dogamy to his own devices inside, you both quietly shuffled down the house’s driveway back to the sidewalk. There, Grillby and you turned to face each other.

     Right. You two would have to go separate ways for work.

     Grillby was the one who broke the silence. “… Which way are you going?”

     “Me? Oh, uh…” You hazily pointed down a connecting street. “That way.”

     Grillby nodded, and offered his hand to you, holding it out for a handshake. “Thanks for all your help.”

     You accepted it wholeheartedly, taking out your own hand from your pocket to shake his. You welcomed the heat that seeped from his glove… His handshake was firm, so you returned it with equal strength.

     “I said don’t mention it, right?”

     As you withdrew your hand from his grasp, you could feel the tips of his fingers linger against yours… In a regular handshake, two people would have just… let go, and left… right? When you pulled away, Grillby didn’t let go. He only loosened his grasp, and gave your retreating hand a squeeze.

     “Grillb…” His name died in your throat.

     An uneven, rugged mouth spread across Grillby’s face as his eyes came into view. Behind his frames, you could see his pupils narrow at you in a return to the sultry gaze he had scalded you with earlier. His hand was still wrapped around yours, and you felt him he lift it up to the rim of his mouth.  A shiver traversed the length of your spine as your bare skin made contact with Grillby’s flames. His fire flickered against your skin… you thought it would have burned you on contact, but… it did no such thing. The heat that brushed your fingertips made them tingle, and you felt that same heated sensation disperse throughout your body.

     Grillby studied that shaky look that you gave him… how your lips trembled ever so slightly, the way you buried your face into your scarf. When his lips shifted to the top of your knuckles, he paused for a moment to admire your muddled face. Feeling increasingly aware of your body’s rising temperature, you opened your mouth to interject, but he stopped you.

     Grillby hooked his free hand under the fringe of your scarf and tugged it down to fully expose the lower half of your face. He pulled you closer to him, cradled his cheek on the back of your hand. He pulled his index finger up to his mouth, and hushed you, blowing a soft and breathy “Shhh…” to silence you.

     When he opened his mouth, you were stunned by its features. It took on a jagged and irregular shape. The inside was composed of a white flame, similar to his eyes, and was obstructed by protrusions of his orange fire in the form of what looked to be pseudo teeth. Your breath hitched in your throat as a shudder passed over you, and Grillby smirked at you knowingly.

     Once he was certain you were settled, he returned his lips to your hands, keeping his eyes trained on you throughout the whole ordeal. Mouth rested upon your knuckles, he slowly closed his eyes, and began planting tender kisses in each dip and crevice within his reach. In response, you raised your free hand to cover your mouth, fearful of what you would look like when Grillby was through with you.

     When he finally pulled away, you were stood there utterly confounded. The words you needed so desperately to speak wouldn’t come out. Your brain was fried, and Grillby knew he was the culprit.

     You heard a deep laugh rumbling from Grillby’s throat at your bewilderment. “Sorry, was that too much?”

     ‘Too much’? That was an understatement. What happened just then… you were no fool. No matter how much of a gentleman Grillby was, that was not the mediocre ‘hello’ or ‘goodbye’ you would have expected from _anyone_.

     Grillby reached out to grasp your shoulder gently, not wanting to agitate you more than he had already. “It’s alright, just relax…” His thumb worked into the junction of your shoulder blade, massaging nerves bundled up there. Grillby’s face now… in contrast to his smugness from earlier, he looked… concerned.

     “Sorry.” You blurted out the first word that came to mind. Grillby was sending you some mixed signals that you weren’t sure how to translate. “You took me by surprise?” No lie there.

     “Apologies for that, then. I’ll try to be more tactful next time.” Next time? There was going to be a next time? God, all these… words put together that you didn’t understand. “Are you warmed up now, at least?”

     Come to think of it… you raised your hands up to inspect them. You were feeling… oddly warm. “How did you do that…?” You looked up at Grillby expectantly.

     “That’s—“

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Your goddamn phone went off.

     “Sorry, sorry…!” You dug your phone out of your coat pocket and fumbled with it in your hands. You read the phone number on the screen… Of course, it was your boss. This wasn’t something you could ignore. “Can I take this? It’s from work.” Grillby nodded, and you answered the phone call promptly.

     “Hello…?” You turned away from Grillby and held the phone a good distance away from your ear, making sure the microphone was at least pointed towards you.

     “You ungrateful FOOL!” And, there, bellowed your boss’s deafening yell. You didn’t even flinch, just lazily slipped the phone between your ear and shoulder as you check the time on your watch.

     Well, shit. You were really late.

     “Yes, boss. Yes. Yes.” You nodded your head accommodatingly even though your boss wasn’t there in person. You were just warming up for what was to come at the office. You held your tongue from any snarky remarks you could have made, and patiently waited for him to finish lecturing you over the phone.

     Once he took the liberty of hanging up on you, you turned back to Grillby. Anyone else would have taken the opportunity to tiptoe away by that time, but he was still there, standing patiently still for you to finish your business up. How sweet.

     “Sorry.” Grillby voiced yet another apology you were not expecting. “I’ll make this up to you.”

     “Really, no skin off my back. I’ll get my money’s worth from Hare tomorrow.” You gave him another nonchalant shrug, and took a few steps away from him. It was time for you to go. “See you around, Grillby.” You raised your hand up in a mock wave, and Grillby did the same.

     “See you…” He stopped midway, suddenly pulling his hand down. “Oh, and, I nearly forgot…” That same smile he had revealed to you earlier made its way onto his face, coarse teeth and all. “Don’t be afraid to take up my offer from earlier.”

     The eyes behind his glasses gave nothing away. Grillby looked as calm and composed as ever, but you couldn’t help but pull your scarf up to hide your blush. Whether you were going to accept Grillby’s invitation or not… That was up to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be continued ?? or not
> 
> [also posted on my tumblr](http://grillby.ml/post/135791891778/the-caf%C3%A9-grillbyreader-ch1)


	2. december 25 - morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was Christmas morning. Recalling yesterday's events... you weren't sure if you wanted to go back to the café.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait. i started writing this in december but didnt find time to finish it up til now lol  
> bUT hey i love christmas ill write about it any time of the year man even in the summer
> 
> i cant really be bothered to edit it but lemme know if yall catch any obvious mistakes ??  
> my grammar isnt the best but hey its 1am and i tried
> 
> p.s. personal apology @ anyone named audrey

     “Hey… hey… hey…”

     “… What do you want, Virus?”

     “… Where do we keep the bowls again?”

     You groaned in a fit of haggard despair, lifting your head only enough to catch a glimpse of Virus’s fuzzy, white… rabbit slippers. They were the kind that perked their ears up, and deflated with a faint squeak whenever they collided with another object. Appropriately, you were that other object, and Virus had been driving their foot into your side for the past couple of minutes. The incessant drone of distressed squeaks, the manic furling of the creature’s wired ears, and the button-eyed voids staring into your soul…… frankly, you’d had enough of it.

     You planted your face back into the carpet frizz with an exasperated sigh of fatigue while using the palm of your hand to push Virus’ foot away. If you had wanted someone to strike you dead, right then and there, you would’ve asked… politely.

     “It’s in the cabinet above the cereal…” You uttered, carelessly thrashing your arm in the general direction of the apartment’s kitchen. When your hand ended up slapping itself silly into something solid, you realized Virus was still standing there, peering down at you helplessly.

     Virus didn’t actually make ‘ _facial expressions_ ’ per se… They had a screen for that stuff, you assumed, but… that had been broken, long before you two had even met. Despite that, you had gotten quite inept at translating their actions into words. And, frankly, their idiocy at that very instant was just short of appalling. Really, did Virus expect _you_ to do all the work?

     You spat as you raised your eyes to meet Virus’s empty screen. “Don’t you live here?” Meaningless dry commentary was the only assistance the television would be getting out of you… Besides, nothing was free anymore these days—not even _your_ services. As degrading as it may sound, it was true. Free work… What, in this economy? You weren’t moving without Virus’s name signed onto a crisp check with a platinum ink pen.

     To your dismay, Virus did not give you so much as a shrug before returning to the lovely kitchen interior to plunder the pantry. All you could do was melodramatically roll your eyes and settle your head back down to nestle yourself into the musty carpet.

     Your roommate was considerably… irked, that morning. Regardless of the reason, and, despite the jolly good season, they paid an uncanny resemblance to the Grinch, sporting an aversion to any and all holiday cheer.

     From inside the kitchen, you could hear the scuffling of Virus’s bunny slippers dragging their miserable selves across the tiled floor. It was… an unpleasant sound. The refrigerator door opened and closed, the resounding thud muffled by a specially manufactured lining—perfect for sneaking snacks in the middle of the night. Frosty wisps of air lingered upon closing, the remnant traces curling their icy fingers on the surrounding air versus the age old heater in a short-lived scuffle. Milk, enclosed in its standardized carton packaging, sloshed to and fro as it collided with the countertop.

     By your instruction, Virus opened an ajar ‘cabinet above the cereal’ as they emitted some grumbling radio static. No bowls to be found there, just… a cat. The perched animal mewed at them.

     Virus leaned out of the kitchen, their gloved hand cupped to the side of their screen in a mock call. “It’s not there…” Monotone they were, but the television set never bothered to disguise their acrimony. Not even the slightest bit.

     “The other one...” You droned out in a kind of dramatic flatness while raking your fingers across the stale rug.

     The antennae mounted atop Virus’s set twitched lightly, presumably out of annoyance, but they assuaged their resentments. Short circuiting in the morning wouldn’t be too good for anyone.

     Before they could shut the still open cupboard, your cat leapt from its post, and onto the counter in front of the cereal. He bunted Virus’s arm stubbornly as they examined adjacent cabinets for their prized ‘breakfast bowl.’

     When the cries were on the verge of becoming earsplitting shrieks, Virus nudged a finger below the cat’s jaw, and smoothed their fur out, eliciting a satisfied purr. “Shh, shh… it’s okay,” Virus hushed your cat’s affectionate mewling with a scratch behind his ears, “we’ll eat together…”

     You heard the distinct sound of your cat’s dry food container popping open, and a shower of said pellets cascading into liquid.

     Virus was at it again.

     “… You spoil that cat too much.” You verbalized your grievances into the threads of the carpet floor, as you scraped your fingers through the dust infested forest.

     At that moment, you were lying face down on your living room’s carpeted floor, doing… absolutely nothing. That is, setting aside your mourning of the fact that yesterday’s dream had become the present day’s dilemma: Grillby.

     Grillby was… certainly, something else. From what you saw at the bar last month, _and_ at the café, your first impression of him was… a stoic and reserved gentleman. Refined. Prestigious. Classy. Polished. Sophisticated. Fine cut, if that was an adjective. You didn’t expect the actual Grillby to be so… what was the word for it..? Assertive? Assuming that _was_ the actual Grillby.

     Not that any of it mattered, but… he was completely different from how you had imagined him to be. And, your imagination, of course, was based on naturalistic observation… which made yesterday’s proceeds an even more puzzling matter. Maybe he was actually… a huge flirt? Or, perhaps he was toying with you. Whatever you saw… _that_ was a different side of him. But, you hadn’t decided yet whether you liked it or not.

     “… Aren’t you going to work?” Virus came out of the kitchen with a spoon in one hand, and, what they liked to call, ‘cat cereal’ in the other. As for the cat himself, he was… perched on Virus’s shoulder, rubbing up against the side of their monitor.

     You groaned lethargically, remaining unmoving. “… Don’t want to.”

     Taking into account your reluctance to go to the café that morning, you consequently did not want go to work. You were in desperate need of some good fortune to offset the nightmares your job had to offer, but your only reprieve was… Grillby. And, after what happened the other day… you couldn’t bear to see him.

     Grillby’s advances had left you downright… perplexed. Yesterday was the first time you had met him since last month, so the idea of someone like him fancying you… it didn’t make sense at all, even if the sheer lack of familiarity with the flame may have also been to blame. The possibility lingered that Hare could have set you up, and paid Grillby to purposefully fluster you like he did. Grillby could have even taken advantage of the situation to pull a fast one on you, but got carried away thereafter. All these logical explanations… and you wanted none of them to be true.

     You were filled to the brim with conflicting emotions. A part of you wanted to just… run away from it all—all your problems, out of pure, unmitigated embarrassment; abandon the whole impasse without giving too much thought to it. The other part, however… it longed to see Grillby. You yearned to see his face, to talk to him, to feel his warmth caress your skin again… He had spoiled you the other day, and, now… you were hungry for more.

     Your rag dolled in livid distress. _You were losing your goddamn mind._ You didn’t know how it happened, or when it happened, but your infatuation with Grillby had near _doubled_ overnight. Yesterday, you were content with watching him from afar, but… now? You wanted nothing more than to be by his side again… even for a short while. Anything else, you felt, would be unfulfilling.

     As much as you tried to deny it in your head, you already knew the truth: Grillby hadn’t done a damn thing, but he had you wrapped around his little finger.

     Virus stood next to your lifeless figure on the ground expectantly. You could hear the sipping of milk and the crunching of cereal, but… you weren’t sure if that was Virus, your cat, or the both of them. Virus grinded their slipper into your hip unrelentingly. “… Hey… If you’re not going to work today,” they paused thoughtfully, “… how are we supposed to pay the rent…?”

     Silence.

     Right then and there, you were overcome with an _entirely_ different emotional quandary. You didn’t have time for foolish responsibilities like… ‘ _taxes_ ’ or ‘ _work_.’ You brushed off the topic would a small shrug, the best you could pull off in your awkward arrangement face down on the ground. “… Don’t know.” You mumbled. Paying off the rent was the least of your worries at that particular moment.

     You felt Virus’s stare drilling holes into the back of your head, but you didn’t care enough for it to have any notable effect. You needed some time to yourself to think; that was all. Missing one day of work wouldn’t be… dire, right…? Your mental health was at stake, after all, and your boss of all people… Well, he wouldn’t understand, but at least _you_ would after the day was done and over with.

     “Virus…” You croaked out in exaggerated desperation as your hands rustled through the various pockets on your person. “Here…” You sluggishly dragged your cellphone out from your pants, and waved it up in front of your roommate in waiting. “Take my phone, call my boss, and tell him I’m dying. Make up the rest.”

     A good minute or so passed by after that, and Virus still hadn’t claimed the device in your hand. “Come on, what’re you waiting for?” You shook your hand from side to side, emphasizing your urgency.

     Instead of resigning themself to your demands, Virus shuffled away, and placed your cat, and their cereal, on the coffee table. When you felt their presence back at your side, you heard their joints creak.

     “What are you doing?” You flopped your head over on its side to look at Virus with scrunched eyebrows.

     They were hovering right beside you; crouched down, elbows on thighs, and gloves hanging loosely in the air.

     “What I should have done ten minutes ago.”

     You felt Virus grab a hold of your hood, partially strangling you in the process.

     “Virus…!” You choked out while clawing at the sleeve of their hoodie.

     With you in tow, Virus stalked over to the door, and promptly tossed you out. You hit a solid pile of snow, ass-first, and you suppressed a yelp at the sudden cold seeping into your pants.

     “… Go to work.” Virus commanded you robotically.

     You sat there in a daze, as they slammed the door in your face.

     …

     You had just been kicked out of your own apartment on Christmas morning.

     And after you had told them where to find the breakfast bowls. _Asshole._

     You begrudgingly picked yourself up off the snow mound conveniently placed in front of your apartment. It seemed as if the neighbors had given up shoveling snow off the balcony halfway, and took it upon themselves to leave a small ‘present’ at your doorstep. You let out a huff of frustration, and brushed off the snow that clung to your clothes, while staring at your apartment door dolefully.

     Virus, their bluntness aside, was… right in some respects. You couldn’t run away from _all_ of your problems… no matter how much you wanted to.

     Eventually, you would have to see Grillby again. The thought of avoiding him… wasn’t realistic. You had grown more or less attached to the quaint café, and, oddly… its owner and the regular fireman. Altogether, the allure was too much, and your stress was just… too high.

     You sighed, and descended down the stairs. Perhaps… the walk over would give you some clarity.

     You adjusted yourself to a moderate pace: leisurely slow, but swift enough to reach the café in a timely manner.

     Dismal apartment aside, the whole neighborhood was appropriately decked out for the season. Traditional holiday music hummed from every other house you passed by. Vibrant lights of disparate hues and intensities twinkled blithely under the falling sleet. To top that of, unnecessary Christmas-themed figurines dotted every plot of land, vacant or not… There was nothing like the fierce, unspoken competitiveness over Christmas décor in the suburban area.

     Lost in admiration for the Christmas cheer your neighbors had that you didn’t, it wasn’t long before you arrived at Dogamy’s house. When you came to that realization, you ducked behind the nearest piece of shrubbery intuitively. If Dogamy found you scrabbling around, he would request for your assistance, and you would accept without hesitation, botching your timing. Even if you had left early that morning thanks to Virus… you didn’t put it past Dogamy to have some enormous task waiting for you.

     If your timing went askew, you risked the chance of bumping into Grillby awkwardly outside the café… and that was the last thing you wanted. And, as much as you loved and detested the café’s owner, he was… your only active buffer.

     Hare: he had badgered a confession out of you, spoiled a perfectly good breakfast, _and_ made you late to work, all in the same day. But… he was also the one who gave you a much needed push to meet, and speak, with Grillby face to face… quite literally.

     … Now that you thought about it, you were standing in the exact place where Grillby and you had parted ways the other day, and, before that… where you had practically… succumbed to his touch. He had treated you like you were an object of fragility; his touches were light, and fleeting, almost as if he was afraid he’d break you.  You came to regret how dazed you had been, wanting to savor every single detail of your time spent with him, even the most flustering of moments.

     When you peered over Dogamy’s fence, you were met with… surprise. The yard was… relatively peaceful. It looked like he had renovated the exterior of his house after you and Grillby left. He had finished stringing lights over and around his house, and had strategically positioned even more lawn decorations to complement the scenic view. From inside, you could faintly hear… Dogaressa and Dogamy screaming at each other over their television… it was something about what to cook for dinner. You shook your head and elected to continue on your way. You would see the product of all their hard work later…

     You froze in place, and felt the blood drain from your face. _Later_. Tonight? Right, _the party..._ It had nearly slipped your mind. Today was Christmas, and you had a party to attend after work. After that realization, it took you another full minute to connect the dots: _Grillby was going to be there._ That, meaning… you would see Grillby at the café _and_ at the Christmas party.

     You weren’t certain your heart would hold out seeing him twice in one day, but… you’d be a damn _fool_ to allow those free food and drinks to go to waste.

 

 ----

 

     It didn’t matter if Hare was going to harass you over yesterday’s specifics; the fact of the matter still remained: _you had a debt to collect._

     In the bitter cold, you stormed down the sidewalk, only a block and a half away from Hare’s.

     Hare was, undeniably, the source of _all_ your troubles. The insufferable bird, whatever his intentions, had deliberately sought to ruin you. You recalled the pompous and complacent look on his face as he sentenced you to your own undoing… You told yourself before he wouldn’t make it out of this scot free, and you were going to live up to that promise.

     Or… so you thought.

     “Fancy meeting you out here!”

     A powerful aroma overtook your senses before the address had even reached your ears. _Perfume_ … and too much of it.

     A hand attached itself to your shoulder unceremoniously, forcing you to meet your assailant, face to face. Spun around, you were able to pry their stiff fingers off your person, but you found yourself unable to brush the perpetrator off with the same ease.

     “I knew it was you… Good morning.” The owner of the voice causing a racket so early in the morning… It was none other than your coworker, Audrey. Their tone was haughty and domineering… too commanding for your liking, despite nothing being demanded of you explicitly.

     It was a widely known fact you abhorred every single living thing at work: from the single celled bacterium writhing in the public bathrooms, and even to the fucking ficus by the elevator… you hated them. You hated them _all_. The constant suppression of your hatred to remain professional and level-headed resulted in you having the most popular poker face in office. And, being the most capable colleague, it wasn’t an oddity that some of the other company employees would be enthralled by you. Audrey was only one of them.

     Your presumed impassivity inspired Audrey to advance the conversation herself. “No need to look so surprised!” She giggled with phony daintiness, and brought a hand up to skim her bottom lip, “I was on my way to work, and couldn’t help noticing you… all on your lonesome.”

     This woman… in another life, perhaps you would have, or could have, been friends. But, around you, she was… voraciously flirtatious. She wouldn’t leave you alone outside, or inside, of work. She was already dangerously close to popping your personal bubble, and, as of then, her overpowering perfume had already done just that. Being forward wasn’t a necessarily _bad_ thing, but her staged flamboyance never failed to cause you trouble… even in the most sound of situations. Her presence was the precursor of what bad things inevitably were to follow, so you had deemed it in your best interests to get away from her before anything of… that sort happened.

     “Audrey, I have somewhere to be—“

     “Can’t it wait?” She whined, and stuck her lower lip out as if to incur some feelings of empathy from you. “We rarely get to see each other. Just take the day off, and… let’s spend some quality time together.” She leered at you, the action stressing her lascivious intent. “I mean, what could be more important than spending time with _me_?”

     The rhetorical question presented to you… you had so many answers dangling from the tip of your tongue, but you knew Audrey wouldn’t give you the opportunity to use them.

     Audrey, for some reason, had profiled you as someone reluctant with all things not work related, and pursued, what she assumed was, your mysterious ‘persona.’ In reality, you were trying to remain as distant from all your coworkers as possible. But, Audrey had been so kind of late as to completely fuck that equilibrium up. Your choices were limited, and decreasing with each passing second. To defuse the situation, you had to placate _some_ of Audrey’s curiosity…

     “I was…” You sorrowfully looked over at the door to Hare’s bistro only a short ways down the path, “going to get some breakfast.”

     “Now that you mention it…” Audrey drummed her fingers against her stomach, “I’m a bit hungry myself.” She pressed her finger to her lips, shooting you suggestive looks in passing, “Why don’t I join you?”

     You deadpanned. Well, your idea wasn’t bad… Audrey was just the wrong person to use it on.

     Your colleague was speaking, and moving, a too… fast, for your liking. She was overly imposing, and you were overly conceding. You couldn’t conjure a sure way to halt her advancements without seeming outright rude, but you thought to give it your best shot. You had to maintain professional relationships; keep your work and personal life separate. The thought of the line between them blurring pushed you onto borderline anxiety. Self-deprecation seemed like the next best option for making someone as headstrong as Audrey uncomfortable.

     “I’m not exactly the greatest conversationalist…” There was some truth to that statement, but you found no time to linger on it. Self-incrimination or not, you would take any route leading away from colluding with your coworkers outside of work.

     Instead of a frown, or any hint of discomfort, a smile fell from her lips. “Don’t worry your little head over it.” Audrey cooed dotingly.

     She reached over to stick her hand into your hair, but you mirrored Grillby’s sidestep from the other day to dodge her successfully.

     Audrey was peeved at your resistance, but bounced back not a second after. “You know me; I’ll be a good girl.” She shot an unseemly wink in your direction, and you cringed in response. “If you treat me, that is…”

    How many more ways could she think of to impose on you?

     Coming from Grillby, that type of attitude didn’t bother you all too much. He didn’t expect anything from you, try to coerce you into disgracefulness, or stipulate any returns for his favors. He was humble, modest, caring… all the desired qualities that Audrey did _not_ have. She was dictatorial to a ridiculous extent and had control issues to boot.

     You thought many times about shutting her down. Declining her flatly didn’t sound like a catastrophically bad idea. However, she was being extremely roundabout with her efforts to seduce you. She acted suggestive and provocative whenever she saw you, but had never gone forth to ask you anything outright. You couldn’t act on assumptions, risk offending her, and impair your work relations. You needed to maintain your image at work, or you risked losing your job. If only you could have her lose interest in you… But, to get rid of persistent pests, you had to exterminate them—something you had no means to accomplish.

     You thought of a quick fix for the mess, and determined that your chaste poverty would throw her off if your initial attempt at self-deprecation didn’t work. “Sorry, I didn’t bring a lot of money with me.” You looked dull and unaffected as per usual.

     “A little money is better than no money at all.” Your plan backfired instantaneously, Audrey deciding to make the best of your… miserable circumstances. “We can even split your food; how’s that sound?” She even made sure to take herself into account! Great.

     Optimism wasn’t supposed to have a negative connotation to it. But, with a personality like that… Audrey’s positivity was downright suffocating. At that point, you realized you had to take your fate into your own hands, and shake her off your tail with a ruse. Otherwise, you would spend the next few minutes fighting an uphill battle.

     You turned your head toward the window of Hare’s café, obvious enough for Audrey to catch, and to follow.

     “You want to eat in there…?” Audrey placed a finger to her lips, and peered inside curiously.

     While she was distracted, your hands dove for the cell within your jacket folds. Once in your grasp, you began flicking the phone’s ringer button on and off furiously to force vibrate it. This plan, although makeshift… would have to do.

     “What’s that?” Audrey looked over at you quizzically, her eyes darting to and fro to pinpoint the origin of the sound. “Your phone?” Her face scrunched up in perplexion.

     You angled yourself away from her to disguise your maneuvers as you plucked the instrument from your pocket. “Someone’s calling me.” Matter-of-fact. You raised the phone to your ear, and pointed to it with your index finger. “I’ll take this.” You made no effort to formally excuse yourself. There was no ‘Please allow me to take this call.’ or ‘May I have the privilege of taking this?’ It was a single, straight up ‘It’s time for me to leave.’

     You turned to ‘answer’ the call, but Audrey leapt forth in eager pursuit. She latched roughly onto your wrist, her sharpened fingernails cutting into the skin. No blood was drawn, but you could see the scrape marks she had branded you with as you jerked your arm away.

     You were livid. Borderline livid with this woman. She wouldn’t stop. She wouldn’t leave you the hell alone. What could you do under circumstances like this? Being forced into a corner to undertake a faint-hearted persona under the threat of unemployment hanging over your head... the odds were clearly stacked against you.

     “Why don’t you take it later?” Her insistence seemed to stem from what you presumed to be her self-absorption, and her complete and utter disregard for other peoples’ thoughts and opinions.

     “Audrey, it’s for work.” Your expression was considerate, but your tone gave away that special cheeriness—it was stern, and not one for taking _any_ shit. You were hoping your passive aggressiveness would drive the message into her thick skull… or the final nail into her coffin.

     She met your attitude with an obnoxious sigh, “Alright, alright! Just… wrap it up quickly, okay?” She placed both hands on her hips, and addressed you curtly, “You don’t want to keep me waiting.”

     In her mind, she was the boss of you… It showed in the queenly arrogance she exerted on those around her. It was a surprise that she hadn’t asked you to bow down and kiss her feet, and it came to you as even more of a surprise than you hadn’t complied yet. Realistically speaking, though, she was your subordinate in the office. It wasn’t like that affected her treatment of you at all. That corporate ladder you loathed the other day… did not seem to help you here, either.

     You wordlessly turned from Audrey and snapped the phone up to your ear, speed dialing Hare’s number instantly. Despite your qualms with him, he’d have to do at the moment. He was the closest, and, after what happened… he owed you an apology… or a favor, at least.

     As expected, Hare took his precious time in answering the phone. As you tapped your foot impatiently against the cement, you could see him inside through the window… he was lazily stretching his wing over to answer the phone.

      “Hello, this is Hare, and who may I be—“

     “Hare; look outside your window.” You hissed under your breath. He had wasted enough of your time just answering the phone, and you needed to hurry things along before Audrey thought you suspicious. “Can you see me?”

     “… Yep, I sure can.” You got an eyeful of one of his audacious winks upon contact. He stretched his neck out, ruffling his feathers in the process, to get a good look at your… companion. “Who’s that with you? New girlfriend?” He was grinning from inside his store; you could make out his wiggling eyebrows even through the frost on the windows.

     “… Not quite.” You muttered hatefully through clenched teeth.

     Hare sneered over the line. “You look like you’re in a tight spot…”

     “… Well,” You began expectantly, “would you mind doing something to _help me?_ ”

     This bird was _really_ testing your goddamn patience.

     “Tsk, tsk, where are your manners?” He clicked his tongue mockingly while waggling his wing back and forth.

     This was the last time you were going to ask him for help. The very last time. Hare, being the entrepreneur he was, always found a way to take advantage of the problems presented to him… all in the spirit of business. For all you knew, he would probably invite the two of you in for a lovely breakfast, and reap the seeds of destruction you sowed in your wake. You don’t know why you tried—why you bothered… If anything, it was just a mild respite from the ordeal. Whatever…

     “Please.” You stated gruffly, not bothering with affable acceptance in return for his stalled assistance.

     Hare paused to sit… on a fence of uncertainty. It felt… deliberate—to prolong your suffering.

     When the response finally came, it was so hastily spoken, you nearly missed it.

     “… ’Kay, just give it a minute.”

     …

     …

     He hung up on you.

     You drew the phone away from your ear slowly; your face fully devoid of emotions.

     A minute? _A minute?_ You were going to have to put up with Audrey for another _full minute?_ Knowing Hare and his lazy ass… it’d be more than that.

     “You done yet, sweetheart?”

     Of course she would notice you the moment the call was finished. Maybe you should have… pretended to keep talking, and made Audrey excuse herself? Drag on an imaginary conversation with yourself until Audrey got bored? You should’ve done a lot of things to stall for time, but you doubted she would abdicate so easily even if you had.

     “Yeah.” You put on your poker face.

     You had to remain calm and collected. Aggravating situations like these never failed to plague you at work, so why fail to smooth talk your way out now? Your plight would be your source of power. You kept your chin held high, and met Audrey with dignity. This was for work. This was all for work. And work kept you alive. You crossed your arms over our chest and waited for her response.

     “Who was it?” Audrey leaned closer to you in hopes of getting a glimpse at your phone screen, but you turned it off, and deposited the item into your pocket. You wouldn’t allow her nosiness to be rewarded.

     “A client from work.” You told her flatly. Was her memory as bad as Hare’s?

     “But, who…?” She took a bold step forward, encroaching upon your personal space.

     To reciprocate, you took a step back from Audrey, keeping a good distance away. If she kept leaning in like that, you’d have to… ‘accidentally,’ clock her in the face. “I told you who.” You grinded your teeth together out of irritation, but upheld a cheerful tone, and managed to give her one of your warmest smiles… even though you knew deep down inside she didn’t deserve it. You just prayed the corners of your mouth weren’t twitching.

     Audrey rolled her eyes, visibly unappeased with your response. “Anyway, on the topic of work…”

      Audrey was only _one_ of the helpless employees at the office… on the assumption that everyone was guilty until proven innocent. She took every single excuse not to tend to her responsibilities. So, if she, of all people, wanted to talk about _work_ … you knew it couldn’t be good.

     Audrey winked at you flirtatiously. “There’s a lot of talk about… _us_ , in the office.”

     She… wasn’t wrong.

     Seeing as Audrey didn’t actually _work_ , she had all the freedom in the world to… crawl all over you. If you weren’t constantly busy, you felt like she would splay herself across your desk, and ask you to take her as she was. Her obscene behavior at work earned many a snickers from your associates, but, also, many rumors. Workplace relationships were always scandalous to some degree. To make matters worse, if the rumors ever got outrageously bad… it would be enough to get you fired. However, Audrey was also at risk of getting ousted from her job in collateral damage. You couldn’t comprehend what dangerous game she was trying to play at. Clearly, she was stepping out of line, but you couldn’t do anything about it in your position…

     You glowered at her menacingly, refusing to speak.

     She matched your looks with a sly one of her own. “You don’t want to disappoint them, do you..?” She said it as if any of their expectations were worth living up to.

     “Audrey, I want you to understand,” You leaned in threateningly close, speaking slow, and grave, lacing each syllable with a venom you hoped would poison her, “rumors are _just_ rumors.”

     Despite your intrusions, she stood her ground, and bit back, “It doesn’t have to be that way.”

     “It doesn’t…” You reformed your posture, and smiled wryly in response, “but let’s keep it that way, shall we?” The mockingly cordial tone tasted sweet on your lips.

     Audrey gaped at you, wide-eyed, undoubtedly baffled by your newfound impudence. It was as if she had wholly expected you to be completely devoid of a backbone. You would have loved nothing more than to comply, but her condescendence was wearing away at your thinned patience.

     You decided not to waste a second more waiting around for Audrey’s response.

     You turned your back to her, and resumed the morose procession to Hare’s café.

    Face out of sight, you allowed the cold sweat you had been holding back to cascade down your forehead. That went down more or less… smoothly. Or, that’s what you told yourself. You continued to fret over the fact that your response may have been less than satisfactory—a bit too blunt, but… It did well to resolve the dispute, so it couldn’t have been all bad.

     However, the familiar sensation of a stare boring into your back… it had you sweating even more buckets.

     If you just went quietly into the night, maybe Audrey would cease embittering you with her suffocating presence. It was a comforting thought, surely, but… you had to mentally check yourself, and remember: you were never that lucky.

     “Wait.” You felt the hem of your coat being violently yanked backwards, forcing you to a halt.

     Damn it. If she wasn’t going to let you off easy… you had really done it now.

     “I can protect you, you know.” Audrey’s voice cracked as she spoke.

     “Oh?” You glanced over your shoulder with a scathing look in your eyes, inducing Audrey to evacuate the grip on your clothing. “And how would you do that?” You punctuated your statements with definitive cynicism.

     Audrey puffed out her chest, and, from that… you could tell her dignity was on its last legs. “My father’s a _very_ important figure in our company.” She pat her chest with the palm of her hand, exerting an even more perceptible aura of arrogance. “He’s a wealthy man. He could pull a few strings, and—“

     You raised a hand to prevent her from boasting further. You had heard enough.

     “So,” you narrowed your eyes, “that’s it.”

     Although annoying, you had to give Audrey some credit. She was clever… in her own way. She found difficulty in the oddest of places, but she knew how to carry herself. She was trying to take advantage of your low income. Entice you into a relationship with her using her father’s money. Bribe you, to be precise. But… she forgot to take into account one thing.

     Your sudden projected enlightenment had its intended effect: Audrey was sorely confused.  “What…?” You could tell she didn’t like that conceited look on your face, taking your transgressions to heart as a personal insult.

     What you wanted to say next… it would destroy you; you knew that all too well. If Audrey’s father was who she said he was… it was in her power to crush you the moment you showed dissent.

    … But, did that really matter? Did any of it matter? Your job. The money. The rent. What was it, really? What was it that had you keep your silence? Hold your tongue. Suppress your anger. By all means, you weren’t a doll; oh no… you just had kept your temper at bay for too long. You had become numb to so many things in that time. Your reproachful boss. Audrey’s borderline harassment. The insolence at work. You had become so accustomed to all the abuses that… nothing had seemed wrong in the first place.

     You had been thinking on it, for a long, long time. This… everything was a part of a routine. What difference would it make… if you kept playing dollhouse for one day more? Slice your tongue, gouge out your eyes, become the perfect little worker _no one_ would despise. You thought of surrender, concession. As meaningless as this chance encounter was, it would affect you... that’s how dangerous people were. They affected you.

     And then, you thought of… the café. You thought of Grillby. Grillby. His bar. His laugh. His smile. His warmth against your skin. How he kicked the snow off his boots. How he counted his change, and filed through the bills. How he adjusted his glasses, ever so slightly. How he glanced over at you every now and then… checking to see if you were okay.

     Against his light, everything else just seemed so… wrong.

     You realized something: none of it mattered. The stress. The headaches. You didn’t need them. You didn’t want them. You didn’t ask for them.

     Even if it meant losing your job, your income, your home… so long as you relied on one thing—one person—to keep you sane… it wasn’t a life worth living. Grillby… he wasn’t meant to be your crutch. He didn’t deserve it—your childishness. He never asked for it, and you never asked it of him. Living as you were… poor, tired, going through each and every day the same… that… wasn’t living.

     And so, you broke down.

     “You…” You cocked your head to the side. Your eyes were wide, but they weren’t filled to the brim with fear like usual. They weren’t glazed over, or watery with tears, you could see clearly—you were fine. An accusatory tone you couldn’t hold back anymore was coming on fast. “Is that why you have so much time to mess with me? Your father?”

     Audrey remained silent, and you took the absence of an interjection as an invitation to continue.

     “Why don’t you go up,” you stepped towards her threateningly, “and ask your daddy,” you jabbed a finger at her chest, “to buy you… a prostitute? Because,” you raised your finger up and flicked the underside of her chin, “I. am not. for sale.”

     A crooked smile formed on your face. You couldn’t help it. You had belittled here. Mocked her. Ridiculed her. After so long of her doing that to you with no retribution. This personal flare of revenge… it was addicting.

     Audrey looked at you, and squinted. Suspicious, untrusting, not understanding… as she should be. You had wiped that smug look of her face, and replaced it with apprehensiveness… To be in control for once… it felt nice.

     You were about to move away, but you saw something in her shake. Audrey clenched her fists, her knuckles paling, as if her blood had run cold. You were right to notice it: she was shaking, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. That smirk of yours… it fell away out of nerve as your attention darted away from Audrey’s trembling figure. Maybe if you ignored her, she would… go away. Give up. Leave you alone. You wanted no part of this anymore; you had already had your fun. All the shit you were going to get into came rushing back into your head. If her dad really was as high in the company as she said he was… you were finished. You were done. You’d be out of a job the moment she came into work. There was some regret, but, at the same time, there was none… at all.

     While she was relatively quiet, you thought to just… leave. Take the time she stood there awestruck to leave.

     But, the silence was broken by Audrey’s pained wail. “Don’t you remember last month at all!?”

     You raised an eyebrow to her question. Your premature escape was stopped. What was she talking about? The party at Grillby’s bar? What did that have anything to do with this?

     “You were…” Audrey choked back her tears, “you were so kind during the party.” She paused, her voice trembling, “I always loved how aloof you were at work… but…” She wiped away a tear that had dribbled down her cheek, and tore her eyes away from the ground to make contact with yours, “you’re actually a real sweetie, aren’t you?”

     That instigated another deadpan from you.

     “Audrey,” You stated her name firmly in hopes that it would bring her back to reality, “that’s a figment of your imagination; it isn’t me.” You took a moment to breathe. “You’re just romanticizing a _memory_ of me. You don’t know who I am.”

     “Of course I do!” She stomped her foot on the ground defiantly. “Who else could you _be_?”

     It didn’t sound like you were going to get through to her anytime soon. She was _convinced_ she knew you straight down to your core. It’s like she treated your eyes as the windows to your soul, or something ridiculous on those grounds.

     Audrey pressed forth. “You… looked especially _attractive_ during the party. The lighting always… seemed to hit you just right. I feel like I fell in love with you, right then and there.”

     Didn’t that sound… somewhat familiar? You sweat inwardly. That’s… exactly how you felt about Grillby. Except for the whole ‘love on first sight’ part of it. You would’ve begun to empathize with her, but… you know what? There it was. That was all you needed. _Her confession_. Now, it was time… to flat out reject her.

     “I’m sor—“

     “Please don’t apologize until you’ve heard me out.”

     Or not. Apparently, she wanted to keep going.

     “After the party, I remember it clearly…” She pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed another tear from her eye. “You… you carried me to a taxi. You stayed by my side the whole ride home. I was getting sick, wasn’t it? But… you stayed there. You stayed with me.”

      Well, she wasn’t wrong, but… you were in a taxi cab. It’s not like you could have just… jumped out whenever, and leave your coworker wasted on her way home; now, could you? Audrey had mistaken your moral obligation for some innate, remarkable heroism lying dormant inside of you. The truth was, anybody aside from you could have done it, but… you were the only sober one, and that’s how it played out. Hell, if you had tipped the cab driver, maybe he would have done it for you.

     Despite the overflowing number of contradictions in mind, you opted to keep quiet. Like before, you had a… moral obligation. You couldn’t leave her a sobbing mess on the doorstep of your café of choice… even if Hare was inside right now, probably treating himself to some popcorn as he watched this soap opera unfold. That bastard… he didn’t have any morals, as far as you could tell.

     Audrey continued to rattle on about her deplorable misadventures, despite being the daughter of a wealthy businessman. You checked your watch constantly, taking the seconds, and minutes, Audrey spent blathering into account. You were still making good on time since you didn’t run into Dogamy earlier, so you could afford to show some patience.

     While you were zoned out, Audrey had moved on from her fetish of your image at the bar and taxi, to... “You carried me back up to my apartment…” Her fetish of your image at the apartment.

     That… you remembered that quite vividly. Her room was on the top floor of her complex, and the elevator was broken. So, you basically lugged her up maybe… five flights of stairs. But, she didn’t need to remember that exactly, right? You stifled a nervous laugh.

     “I remember… you got my keys, and you carried me into my condo bridal style…”

     That definitely did not go down that way. You didn’t drag Audrey’s drunk, vomiting ass up several flights of stairs just to have her barf all over your new work clothes. It looked like her explanation was starting to get more delusional by the minute, even after the glorification of the evening’s beginning.

     “You set me down on the couch gently, and sat there beside me… threading your fingers through my hair.” She grabbed your hand again, and you tried to pull away, but her grip was like a vice, and it stung. “You treated me so gently…” She rubbed circles into the back of your hand with her thumb. She probably thought her actions would bring you some pleasure, but she was so forceful in her movements, it pained you. She was doing a really good job at manhandling you, if anything.

     It was obvious, but you didn’t actually do any of what she was saying. It was true you had escorted her back to her apartment, all of the fancy stuff aside, but after that, you threw her onto the couch. Flumped her head onto her pillow, got some medicine and a glass of water for the hangover the morning after, then… left.

     As Audrey spoke of her supposed experience with you, you noticed she… had stopped. She flushed, bit her fingernails, and avoided your gaze… all acts of nervousness.

     “… What is it?” You prompted her to continue. If she had imagined you doing something embarrassing… you wanted to hear about it… Not because you were a closet pervert, but because you wanted to eradicate any and all of her deranged misconceptions.

     Audrey blushed, released your poor, deflated hand from her grasp, and wrung her own hands together. All signs of her tearing up earlier had dissipated throughout the course of the conversation, but now she was trying to act… cutesy, again.

     “You…” She bit her lip and looked away, trying her damnedest to avoid saying it. “You want me to say something as lewd as that… out here….?” She looked up at you with a blush on her face… If you didn’t know any better, you would have mistaken Audrey for a reserved virgin, but the sly look in her eyes said otherwise.

     … Actually, never mind the… interrogation. You thought that it was something ridiculous that you could refute. If it was some kind of erotic fantasy with you in it… you could live without hearing about that. “On second thought, you can keep that to yourself—“

     “You had your way with me.” The flat note that accompanied her response… it was unreal.

     You squinted in disbelief. Were you hearing that right? Correctly? Was there something in your ears? “I… what?” You were so overcome with confusion, you couldn’t form a single coherent thought.

     “You fucked me.” The way she said it… it was like it was the most obvious thing in the world. But, that, too, like all of the other night’s events… it definitely did _not_ happen. What was there to fuck? You were as fast as light getting the hell out of her apartment. Did she, perchance, have sex with your afterimage?

     “Audrey,” You didn’t care if you were being insensitive, but you were wracked with laughter as you spoke, “we did _not_ have sex together!” You were glad she was the one who got drunk, and not you.

     “But we did!” She insisted, “I remember it clearly! All the details, you—“

     You raised a hand to stop her. “Okay, I don’t need to know about your wet dreams with me.”

     Audrey puffed her cheeks out in a pout. “They weren’t dreams, though!”

     “Look here, Audrey…” You stuffed your hands into your jacket pocket, and pulled your scarf up to partially muffle you. “I’ll admit you have a very wild imagination, but you need to stop now.” You dropped the humorous antics, and squared up your jaw. “This isn’t a joke anymore. Whatever you’re trying to pull, you can’t expect me to play along just like that.” You snapped your fingers.

     The look of indignation on Audrey’s face was undeniable. “You… You think _I’m_ a joke?” She pointed to herself. It was an accusation you could deny, but… you also knew it was useless rhetoric, and you were helpless to respond. “If you _still_ refuse to understand…” Audrey growled, and took a step toward you, her hands balled into fists. “ **I will make you.** ” She bared her teeth viciously.

     Realizing you were in imminent danger of getting the shit beat out of you, you fell back and prepared to break out into a run. You couldn’t fight Audrey. You couldn’t go that full mile. That… would legitimately be _assault_. There was your verbal abuse, which was… justifiable, from your perspective, but… _assault_? There was no way you could testify in court to those kinds of charges.

     Your feet slid and scrabbled against the icy pavement beneath you.

     The moment’s frantic escape was stopped short when your back hit something akin to a brick wall. The air was knocked out of your lungs, streaming out into the crisp wintry air. Your hairs stood on end, and the terror began to seep in. You had bumped into something.

     Time seemed to have just… stopped. You wished to get away, but… how did you end up getting this fortunate? Looking up at Audrey… she was frozen in place, too. Her jaw hung loose, and her mouth was agape. Her face was overcome with bewilderment…

     Wait, behind you—

     “Morning, love.” You jumped at the deep voice that rumbled from the wall behind you… turns out it was a person’s chest. The stranger laid a warm, gloved hand on your shoulder. Oddly enough, it managed to bring you down from your panicked high. Thinking about it, you recognized that voice, that familiar heat, that simply calming ambience…

     “Grillby…?” You craned your neck around to get a glimpse behind you, and, lo and behold, he was there—Grillby. He was standing behind you. When you looked up at him, and he nodded at you in return, he was able to turn your frown… upside down. That quick. He didn’t do a damn thing, but you smiled nonetheless.

     He was close, near enough to be pressed up against your back, but… he maintained a respectable distance from you without fully touching. He was… extremely accommodative of your personal space. The only shared contact between the two of you was meant to relax you. He gently, but firmly, massaged small circles into your shoulder with his thumb.

     You were happy to see him, but thoroughly astonished by his sudden appearance. Why was Grillby there? You confirmed the time just a minute ago, and it was still too early for him to arrive. How did he—

     You looked up to ask him the question nagging at the back of your mind, but he leaned in, quieting you promptly. “Play along…” Grillby whispered into your ear. He moved in closer, and nuzzled his face against yours. You could feel his warm breath wash over your cheeks, and any words you had hitched in your throat. Being this close to him… that was new. You could smell his cologne… it was a faint and pleasant scent that didn’t make you lightheaded like Audrey’s perfume did.

     “Mornin’...” You were able to mumble out as he pulled away. Whatever the reason for his early arrival, now that he was here… you were feeling much warmer and safer than before.

     You’d be okay.

     “And who are you?” Oh, you forgot.

     Audrey was still standing there, fuming at your insolence. She had backed up with the appearance of your companion, thankfully, giving you some room to breathe without her perfume clogging up your nose. Perhaps… he intimidated her? You kind of hoped that was the case, because maybe then she’d leave you alone. She looked offended that he had interrupted her, but… you were grateful for his intervention. And, when was Audrey _not_ offended, anyways?

     “My apologies; I didn’t see you standing there.” Grillby sounded polite and courteous as ever, but you could tell that he was being passive aggressive like you were earlier. However, he showed no signs of irritation… from what you could tell. Evidently, Grillby… was much better than you at keeping his cool, despite being a fire monster.

     “Greetings, Miss…?” He arched an eyebrow, his only visible facial feature at that moment, prompting her to state her name.

     “… Audrey.” She responded gruffly after a moment’s hesitation. She looked between you and Grillby callously.

     Grillby bowed his head in acknowledgement. “Greetings, Miss Audrey. My name is Grillby…” You could tell he was to continue past his pause, but Audrey took the silence as a cue to ramble on. She seemed to have less tact than you did… or maybe that was because you knew Grillby, and she didn’t.

     “Well, Grillby, could you stop being so… clingy with my friend here? It’s rude, and I’m sure they don’t appreciate it.” Audrey tapped her foot against the pavement impatiently, and crossed her arms over her chest. She looked annoyed, and her voice mirrored that.

     The dots finally started to connect… Audrey was jealous. Jealous, but hypocritical, seeing as how anal retentive she was being with you earlier.

     “What might you mean by that?” Grillby acted oblivious to her enviousness, provoking her further. If Audrey _really_ wanted him to unhand you, she would say so, and Grillby was giving her enough room to voice her distrust in him. Somehow, he was… he was manipulating the conversation the exact way he wanted it to go. When you first met him, Grillby didn’t strike you as someone willing to do things like that intentionally, but… from Dogamy and the one on one conversation with him yesterday… perhaps you had to have him reevaluated.

     Audrey huffed in frustration at Grillby’s bemusement.  She was struggling to be straightforward, but not _too_ straightforward. Her suspicions of Grillby were clear, but… she expressed a reluctance to say it outright. She was a smart girl—she realized that he could roast her ass at any given moment if she gave him the wrong answer. In light of that, she tried on a different approach, declining to give an answer to his first inquiry.

     “What’s your relationship with them?” Audrey pointed at you indicatively. It didn’t sound like she’d be backing down just yet.

     “With me?” You point to yourself confounded, but refrained from saying anything else. You weren’t sure what Grillby had in mind for you, or what you were supposed to be ‘playing along’ with exactly… He’d have to take the reins on this one for you.

     “Oh?” Grillby mirrored your wry tone from earlier. He was going to do something… something snarky; you could hear it in his voice. “This…” He pulled you closer to him, slinging his arm around your shoulder. “This is my partner.” And you were right on the money.

     “Your… your what?” Audrey stood there, baffled.

     You would’ve loved nothing more than to give her one of those snide, victorious ‘I win!’ looks, but you were… just as confused and surprised as she was. Before you could even look behind to question Grillby, he squeezed your shoulder. Within a moment’s notice, he leaned down and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck while looking up at Audrey brazenly.

     You tried your best to play it off coolly… You really did, but... His fire lapped the base of your neck, spreading a warmth to your face. You could feel your head heating up against your own will. A small smile crept onto your face as you glanced down at him. He was… absolutely mesmerizing. You could see his flames flickering out of the corner of your eye.

     What to do, what to do… You couldn’t stand there all stiff and rigid, right? He… he did tell you to ‘play along’ after all… You had to make it legitimate—match the affection he was giving you.

     You snuggled back against his cheek. Grillby pulled back in surprise, but… you didn’t say anything; just smiled at him fondly.

     … Hopefully he didn’t ask you about that later. You ascertained to yourself that it was to make things as legitimate as possible. It wouldn’t work if you were standing there uncomfortable and apathetic to him. It wasn’t because you liked him and you were taking advantage of the situation, nope! Not at all.

     It took a minute for Grillby to recollect his thoughts, but when he did, he turned back to Audrey to revisit his earlier statement. He rubbed your shoulder adoringly. “This is my lover.”

     Poker face. Poker face. Just one last time, you put on your poker face. You instructed yourself repeatedly not to look surprised, under _any_ circumstances. If you did… the jig would be up. Audrey would know that Grillby was lying, and after all his hard work saying something as troubling as that? You couldn’t allow his efforts to go to waste.

     So, you stood there. Pleasant. Delightful. You looked pleased with yourself, and at what Grillby had said. You had maintained composure, and a mildly conceited look on your face. Audrey was fighting a losing battle, so whatever superiority you were feeling at that moment in time… it was real. You smiled, but it was fake, and you knew she would be able to tell. Grillby’s face was devoid of emotions as well. The two of you stared at her, waiting for her to respond. And, when she did, you were… aghast.

     “That’s all fine and well, but…” Audrey took another bold step towards you and Grillby, “you know something, Grillby?” You thought her broken and defeated, but she was _still_ going to go for it. You could feel her ego rise two octaves before she even finished speaking. “Two’s company, but _three’s a crowd._ ” You would’ve applauded her tenacity in any other situation, but now… you were _furious_.

     Audrey really had some _goddamn_ nerve to address Grillby so disrespectfully. Ever since he had shown up on the scene, he had been nothing but polite… setting aside his passive aggressiveness. The insult meant for Grillby… had riled you up in his place. A cocky smile overcame you as your eyebrow twitched in displeasure. Fuck composure. Just _fuck it._ You wanted to punch that son of a bitch’s ugly face in, and grind her into the goddamn ground with your own heel. That way, she’d bow down to you and be closer to hell all the same.

     You were ready to fight, roll up your sleeves, put up your fists; you’d go the whole damn mile for all you cared. You’d had enough of her impertinence and baseless arrogance.

     Grillby seemed to have sensed your agitation, and moved his hand up to tousle your hair. Just a tender pat, and a gentle twirl of the strands; not enough to mess it up, or even cause much of a disturbance. You dreaded Audrey’s goes at your hair, but when Grillby did it… it felt nice. He was passing on a larger message though, and you caught it as that. He would handle this for you. You disliked pushing your problems onto other people, but if Grillby would willingly take it upon himself… then, by all means.

     “Well, then,” The level of Grillby’s voice took on a darker tone, sounding gravelly and sinister, “maybe you should **leave.** ” You could hear his flames flare up with a pop and a crackle, causing Audrey to jump and reel in horror. Your eyes widened in surprise. Grillby had basically told Audrey to fuck off… kindly. When you whipped your head around to see what he had done to scare her so blatantly, he was back to his normal self.

     … No matter what it was, Audrey was… scared. She looked terrified. Maybe it was better that… you didn’t see what he did. You were surprised that Grillby had been so blunt. But, you guessed he didn’t have anything holding him back like you did. No restraints on him. He was your trump card; your last resort. Doing that… he relieved a large portion of your anguish. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking then, but you appreciated his boldness. Why he was willing to do so much for a person he met yesterday… beat you, but… you would make sure to thank him for it later.

      “I-I’m…” Audrey stammered; she was visibly shaken up now. The atmosphere between Audrey and Grillby had grown awkward enough for her superiority complex to flake off. “I’m hungry, so I guess… I’m just going to grab some breakfast—“

     “We are too, right?” Grillby spoke up, interrupting her, and he looked at you for confirmation.

     You saw what he was doing. “Yeah,” You answered as if it was obvious, “we’re regulars here.” You made sure to make eye contact with Audrey when you mentioned that last part. She looked away immediately.

     Grillby was trying to make Audrey feel as uncomfortable as possible. The mental message was: leave us the _hell_ alone.

     “After you,” Grillby walked over to the front door of Hare’s café, and opened it for you. He bowed, and motioned for you to head inside.

     You snickered at how proper he was being. “Thanks, Grillby.” Admittedly, you were flattered by his courtly gesture.

     Grillby stepped in after you, allowing the door to slam shut in Audrey’s face. You could hear her swearing under her breath as she fought with the door for dominance. The opening bell rang sporadically as she tried to squeeze through the remaining crack, as the wind threatened to squeeze it shut. While she was in the front making a fool of herself, Hare slid up behind the counter with a bag of popcorn in wing.

     “Hey! I thought you guys’d _never_ show up.” He snorted.

     He tilted his head back, and threw a popcorn kernel up into the air, anticipating its fall with an open beak. You leaned over the counter, and swatted it away instead.

     “Shut up, Hare; we’re actually early today.”

     “Well, someone’s got their underwear in a twist!” Hare raised his wings up in mock offense. “Anyways, anyways…” He dipped back in, propping his head up with his wing. “What can I get for the lovebirds today?”

     You appreciated that Hare was playing along, but it wasn’t exactly gratuitous, and he was trying his darnedest to be a snotty little prick about it. You didn’t want to seem more unseemly around Grillby than you already had that day, so you just smiled at him… menacingly; your eyebrow twitched like before. Hare winked back at you, unaffected by your repulse.

     “The usual.” Grillby and you said in unison. The two of you shared a taken aback look, and ended up chuckling in the end at how domestic the situation seemed.

     Grillby brought a closed hand to the front of where his mouth would be and cleared his throat. “… I’ll be eating here today, though.”

     Another look was shared between you and Grillby, but his was expectant, and yours startled. Without exchanging any words, Grillby’s eyes appeared, and he flashed you a sly wink. You felt your temperature rise by a few degrees, and you quickly looked away and ran your fingers through your hair to save yourself the humiliation.

     “Get a room.” Hare squawked facetiously.

     You slammed your clenched fist down on the counter and, “You are testing my patience, asshole.” You swore you could hear Grillby chuckling from behind you. Whatever worries you had about being ‘unseemly’ in front of Grillby flew right out the door Audrey was tussling with.

     “Damn, okay, alright; just sit down now!” Hare ushered the two of you away as Audrey lined up.

     You shot Hare one last intimidatory glare before retreating from the counter. He wiped some imaginative sweat off his brow as Audrey walked up. The minute she did, though, he excused himself and turned around to begin cooking.

     “Ahem?” Audrey coughed to catch Hare’s attention.

     “Hush now, can’t you see that I’m busy? I’ll be with you in a moment, so just wait there.”

     Hare fired up the stove in the back, and began frying away. Audrey stood there as instructed, but dumbfounded. She had been blown off by the café owner. Grillby and you, in the meantime, walked up to the coat stand by the door. You snickered a bit at Audrey’s misfortune, having to deal with Hare for the first time this early in the morning. Regulars were used to that kind of attitude… although, less in severity. In your mind, she deserved it entirely, though.

     You went to work, beginning by shrugging your scarf and jacket off, and then proceeding to hang them on one of the hooks of the stand beside you. You looked over at Grillby, and noticed he hadn’t made a move to remove his own outerwear. Instead, he was watching you silently.

     “Hey, why don’t you take that off?”

     Grillby raised an eyebrow at you questioningly. “... My scarf and jacket?”

     “Yeah—I mean, you _are_ staying here to eat, right?”

     A moment of silence passed by before Grillby responded. “… Point taken.” You chortled at his momentary blunder as he reached up to unwrap his scarf. “Actually,” he stopped midway, “why don’t you take it off for me?”

     You were prepared to reject the proposition on the spot, but… you noticed Audrey staring at you enviously from the counter. Grillby leaned in and whispered into your ear. “Your coworker’s watching us. You need my help, don’t you?”

     Your face reddened at the suggestion. He was right. He was coming to you in a time of desperate need. The least you could do was follow his lead. Slowly, hands shaky, you reached up and behind his head, unraveling the scarf. You grew flustered quickly. He was a bit too tall for you to reach around completely, and you ended up having to grab onto his shoulders lightly. He minimized the distance between you and him so you wouldn’t have to struggle as much, but in return… the closeness made it hard to focus on the task at hand. When the entire length of the fabric finally fell into your hands, you hung it up behind you.

     You thought your job was finally finished, but he pointed to his coat, and you looked at him incredulously.

     “Really?”

     Grillby simply nodded his head, and you rolled your eyes, evoking a small chuckle from him.

     “You’re just teasing me now, aren’t you?” You whispered breathily as your hands reached up to glide along the front of his coat.

     You could feel the warmth of his fire through the fabric despite its thickness, and you clumsily fumbled with the buttons. Your lips trembled as you scowled at the scene’s comicality. Audrey was surely glaring daggers at you from the counter. Hare was probably snickering from the kitchen. You could tell Grillby was getting a kick out of it too, because that rugged smile of his had formed on his face.

     Halfway through, you found that your hands had familiarized themselves with the unfastening of buttons. You wondered if you could just use one hand on each button and be done with it. But, to your annoyance, Grillby seemed to have leaned forward, and unbuttoning his jacket became an arduous task from the angle you were at. “Grillby, this isn’t a good position—“

     “It’s perfect for me.” You felt something hot caress your forehead, and what felt like a pair of lips joined in soon after. When he pulled away, your hands were frozen, but your face was boiling.

     Grillby had planted a kiss on your forehead.

     When you looked up at him speechlessly, you could see that his face had fully materialized—his mouth, eyes, and eyebrows… they were all there. His eyes lit up with laughter and joy, and his mouth had contorted into a narrow grin. His smile was… surprisingly adorable. It shook with the chuckles that vibrated from his throat, and rocked his person. The white flames inside danced in delight, and the orange teethed flames contrasted beautifully against the paling light. Perhaps it was the lighting, or your imagination, but you could see that some of his flames were tinted a reddish color compared to the usual orange.

     To someone else, his face might have seemed… scary. But, to you—albeit you were a tad cross with the monster—his laughter, his smile, and his blush… all the individual things he did and said: they brought you happiness, and you had to fight to keep yourself from laughing along with him. You mustered a shaky pout on your face, but it wasn’t very convincing.

     “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” He was ridden with chuckles as he undid the rest of the jacket buttons himself.

     Your lips folded into a thin line as you silently fumed at him, but, as he shrugged off his coat... most of those sentiments had left you. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen Grillby in many outfits. You saw him last month at the bar in his waiter attire: a button up vest, a bowtie, and a collared shirt with slacks. Whenever he came to the café, he was always wearing similar winter gear: a long overcoat, slacks, gloves, and dress shoes. You had half expected him to have his waiter’s attire waiting underneath the coat, but… he was actually wearing a comfortable looking red sweater over a collared shirt and tie. Did he always dress up this classy, or were his fashion tastes just speaking to you?

     Grillby noticed you staring, and smirked at you. “Like what you see?”

     “Yeah, nice view.” You chortled. You weren’t about to let your composure be foiled this time.

     Your renewed confidence and aptitude for comebacks left Grillby with another huge grin on his face. You were more accustomed to speaking to him now, so he should be expecting more of where that came from. You shared a few giggles with him, but stopped short, when something caught your eye.

     “The gloves?”

     He seemed to falter momentarily at your query. “… You wouldn’t be bothered?” He whispered unsurely.

     You looked at him questioningly. There was no reason at all to wear gloves. You had touched his fire on several occasions, and that was convincing enough. Taking off his gloves wouldn’t be hurting anyone.

     “There’s nothing to be bothered by, Grillby.” You reassured him. “I mean, it’s just you, after all.” You flashed him one of your charming grins, while rubbing your shoulder nervously. Was that… too forward? You decided to back up your words with something more sensible sounding. “Isn’t it difficult to eat like that? I have trouble handling a knife and fork with my bare hands.” You stuck out your tongue out at him playfully as you waved your hands in the air to emphasize your own clumsiness. Hopefully, he wouldn’t notice your slip-up.

     Grillby smiled to himself and closed his eyes as he shook his head. “You’re full of surprises today.” He slipped off his gloves and tucked them into the inner lining of his jacket. Like the rest of his body, his hands were composed of fire. They resembled human fingers, as you thought they would. Why would he intentionally hide them? You shook the thought out of your mind, and pressed onward. Shouldn’t be asking questions that could be too personal.

     “Well, we only started speaking to each other yesterday. What did you expect?” You spoke softly, not wanting Audrey to catch wind of what you were saying.

     When you peered over Grillby’s shoulder, she was still leaning at the counter nonchalantly, but you could tell… she was trying to eavesdrop on you.

     Grillby caught you looking at Audrey worriedly again, and looked back at you. “Why don’t we take a seat?” That was a reasonable suggestion. Perhaps you would be out of earshot in that case.

     “Where do you feel like sitting?” You asked Grillby as you entered the dining area.

     There were chairs and tables of differing sizes scattered about the room. You assumed he would choose something in the back to get farther away from Audrey, but where you saw him going… it threw you for a loop.

     Grillby leisurely strolled up to a rounded table with two chairs at opposite ends in the seating area. But, it wasn’t just any table… it was the table you sat at, every single morning.

     “You sit here, don’t you?” He pulled out your favorite armchair for you, and stood behind it patiently.

     Somehow, someway… by some cosmic alignment… Grillby knew where you sat. How he knew, however, was a complete and utter mystery to you. You had nearly snuck out behind him yesterday at the café, and when he noticed you, you were at the door. Along the course of the month, you had been discreet as possible. Even if you did sit in the same place every day, you were sure Grillby hadn’t even taken notice of you. It seemed like you weren’t the only one full of surprises that day.

     You couldn’t wipe the goofy grin off your face as you approached Grillby. He was standing there behind your chair, waiting to seat you like the gentleman he was. You felt like by spending time with him, you were the one being self-indulgent.

     “Thank you.” You took a seat, and Grillby pushed your chair in.

     “Comfortable?” He hunched over the back of the chair, checking to see if you were alright. He seemed to do that habitually.

     You reclined your head back in your chair to get a good look at him hovering above you. “I’d let you know otherwise.”

     Without any warning, Grillby leaned down and pecked you on the forehead again. You blushed at his spontaneity. How often was he going to do that while Audrey was around? You didn’t _really_ want to question it, though, because… his lips on your skin… the feeling wasn’t terribly bad. You pretended to scowl at him and swat him away, but he caught your hand in the air and dabbed a kiss on it as well. He looked at you teasingly, wiggling his eyebrows. Lord, this guy was a goddamn romantic.

     “Go sit down, Grillby!” You jokingly snapped at him, playfully pushing his arm away.

     “Alright, alright; I’ll stop messing around.” Grillby removed his grasp from your chair and settled down in the seat across from you.

     As he was preoccupied, you glanced out of the corner of your eye at Audrey. She was trying her best pretending not to look at the two of you, but… it was obvious she was looking anyways. Her secretiveness was just about as bad as you thought yours was.

      You felt a warm hand cradle the side of your face. “Hey, look at me.” Grillby gingerly turned your head away from Audrey to face him. With his hand against your jawline, he caressed your cheek with his thumb. You felt yourself relax as he held your gaze. You lost all sense of time and surrounding, enraptured with the monster in front of you. His touches were warm, soft, and kind. He traced his finger along your jawline, and down to the base of your neck. It was as if he was studying every crease and fold in your skin, all the blemishes and imperfections included. He didn’t seem to mind… or to care.

     The sound of metal striking the ground caused you to flinch, and Grillby withdrew his hand instinctively. Both of your eyes traveled to the source of the noise behind the counter, bodies rigid.

     “… Are you okay?” Audrey peered over the counter at Hare who was now splayed across the floor.

     “Fine, fine…” Hare grumbled as he picked himself and his pots off the ground.

     You looked back at Grillby from the scene and gave him an apologetic look. “Right, right; sorry.” You glanced off to the side to avoid his scrutiny. You could see his reflection in the window next to you. He was still looking at you, and his flame shimmered in the warming café light. You leaned your head against the glass pane. What were you doing? What were you thinking? Being so intimate like this with someone you had just met yesterday…

     … Although, that wasn’t entirely true, was it? You’d known Grillby for longer than that… much longer than a few days. He seemed alright with it; as much as you were. It was formal, but it was casual. Not namely comfortable, but not uncomfortable. You don’t know what gave you that sense of familiarity with him. Maybe it was because your thoughts lingered on him so persistently. He was easy to talk to, relaxing to be with, not someone who stressed you out… Around him, it was like all your obligations and responsibilities… didn’t exist. Was it wrong to use him like that? A refuge? Your nirvana? The answer you were looking for… it definitely couldn’t be found in the falling snow outside.

     “… How about you?” The voice brought you back from your thoughts.

     “Huh? What?” You had unintentionally spaced out, and turned your attention back to Grillby.

     “Are _you_ okay?” Grillby tilted his head and looked at you with a frown. He looked… worried. The concern in his voice forced you to bring the conversation back into focus.

     “Uh... I am now, thanks to you.” You scratched the back of your head in embarrassment. It was weird to hear that coming out of your mouth, but it was only the truth. Grillby had saved you from a potentially violent altercation outside the café, and defused the whole situation before it could get too heated. He had rescued you from tons of emotional, physical, and legal problems, now that you thought about it.

     Knowing that you were okay, Grillby’s frown morphed back into one of his kind smiles… It was adorable. His mouth was rugged because of his teeth, but… it was… cute. It reminded you of your own nervous smile at times.

     “Back there…” Grillby rested his back against the chair, and folded his hands over his lap. “I’m sorry.”

     An apology? For what? He had done nothing wrong…

     Grillby fixed his gaze on the fluorescent lamps dangling from the ceiling, and inhaled deeply. “Perhaps I was… too much.” He seemed to be remorseful about his brash actions outside the cafe, but you were having none of that.

     “You’re kidding, right?” Your genuine laughter was followed by a smirk, “You saved my ass today!” You stopped giggling and leaned in closer over the table. “I mean it: Thank you, Grillby.”

     He returned your jubilance with another smile on his face. “If that’s so… the pleasure’s all mine.”

     You retreated back into the cushions of your own chair and slouched. Grillby followed suit soon after, lounging back into his own chair and closing his eyes. He looked content, his head rested against the back of the armchair. You could see the faint rise and fall of his chest as he inhaled and exhaled. Peaceful. He looked… peaceful. You moved your head to the side to get a better view of him. His facial features hadn’t disappeared. His mouth was folded into a thin jagged line, but he didn’t look disconcerted or anything. His eyes were shut and his eyebrows weren’t strained as usual. He had an odd habit of scrunching those up. You silently laughed at the thought and shook your head. He really was a charming guy.

     You wandered from Grillby’s person to browse the interior of the café as per usual. There was a flickering light in a corner of the café—Hare would have to fix that eventually. It was mostly empty that morning, set aside a couple of monsters working on their laptops near the wall outlets. That reminded you a bit of… Virus. Thinking about Virus… they had been an asshole to you that morning, but… maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get them a present of some sort. It was Christmas, after all, even if the both of you weren’t feeling in season. Your mind traveled away from the other café patrons and landed on the wall opposite of you on the far side of the café. There was a clock there, ticking the time away. You had wished many times just to have it stop. Stop time itself. You always wanted to spend a little longer in the café… watching Grillby. You didn’t want him to leave. You didn’t want to leave. But, the time always came, where he left, and you followed soon after. That’s just how it was, and how it always would be. Even today… he would have to leave eventually, and you would have to go to work.

     The time on the clock caught your eye. You squinted, to make sure you were reading it right. The hour, the minute, and the second hand… you clearly picked them out and defined the numbers on the face of the clock. You had almost forgotten, but… Grillby had arrived early to the café today.

     “Grillby.” You spoke up.

     Grillby blinked his eyes open and fixed his posture, now alert. “Yes?”

     “Did Hare call you?” No point in dancing around the question.

     He nodded his head. “Yes, he may or may not have tipped me off…” He pretended that he was trying to keep the credit all to himself for rescuing you. _Cheesy._

     You giggled and shook your head. At least Hare wasn’t a complete good for nothing. He could have intervened himself. Pulled the ‘I’m the owner of this shop, and you’re scaring away my customers,’ excuse, but… that was probably expecting too much of him already. You always found Hare’s actions questionable at the end of the day, and regardless of whether they helped you or not… they often put you in even more questionable positions.

     Looking back up at Grillby, you realized his eyes were on you. Often lost in your own thought, you failed to notice that sometimes. He was always looking at you, even when you least expected it. The prolonged eye contact… it would take some getting used to. You had never been on the receiving end of his stare until yesterday. That was… after a whole month of observation, and staring at him yourself. The shift was somewhat drastic and… you hadn’t accustomed yourself to it yet. You writhed in your chair, but not so much for Grillby to take notice. Your heart was beating out of its chest, but you managed to breathe normally… somehow.

     “… Your work isn’t for a while, right?” Grillby rested his elbow on the arm of his chair and propped his cheek up with it. He looked at you sweetly.

     “… Yes?” You sounded uncertain. It was a simple question, for chrissakes.

     “Good; we can enjoy a long breakfast together, then.” He smirked at you

     You blushed and lowered your head slightly, but glanced up to maintain eye contact so as to not seem rude. “… Yeah, I’d like that a lot.” You rubbed your hands together out of timidity.

     Grillby was being incredibly forward. He wasn’t as flirtatious as the day before, so maybe he was… in a different mood today? Maybe his tendencies depended on the phase of the moon. Who knew?

     You noticed his eyes dart in the direction of the counter, and you looked at the reflection in the far window. Audrey hovered around the counter thanks to Hare’s antics, but despite the distance… she was blatantly looking at your table, not even concealing her nosiness anymore. Even if the reflection was incomplete, you could tell she was glaring daggers at Grillby. A scowl appeared on your face. Really, when would she give up? If her personality wasn’t so disgusting, you would have been flattered, but that was her tragedy, and not yours.

      “Hey,” Grillby placed his hand palm up on the table, “put your hand on mine.”

     Your hands twitched nervously in your lap. The significance of that gesture… you couldn’t understand the necessity of it. Was this… all apart of ‘playing along?’ Was this according to Grillby’s plan? It was safe to say your comprehension was severely dwindling, but… you knew it in mind—this was extra. This was… redundant. You didn’t really need to do this. Audrey was as convinced as she ever would be. Your act with Grillby had been solid. If you were a bystander, hell, _you_ would be convinced. It was… enough. Everything he had done… he had done enough. He knew that; he understood. You could see it in his eyes. But, this was… this was something different. Despite that… you couldn’t find it in yourself to refuse.

     “… Are you sure?” You whispered, wanting to ascertain his request.

     “Trust me.” He spoke encouragingly in a soft voice.

     You were a bit reluctant to do so, but you hesitantly raised your hand nonetheless. It’s not because you were scared of being burnt, it’s just… holding hands with Grillby? Now, that… was surreal.

     Before you even placed your hand on his, he was constantly making sure you were… okay. He held your gaze the whole entire time. From the moment your hands left your lap, to the second your fingers brushed against his palm… he watched, he looked, and he observed. But… he saw no fear in your eyes. Only trust. He made no sudden movements. He… didn’t want to frighten you; scare you away. Your trust, he could see, was so very delicate. He had to be careful, he had to be gentle; just like every other time—he didn’t want to break you.

     Grillby remained still when you laid your palm against his hand. He didn’t make any move to take it; he sat there, vigilant as ever. When he had deemed you acceptably settled, he took hold of your hand… slowly curling his fingers to clasp yours. It felt… pleasant—you were at ease. For your hand to be held by his, it was so… satisfying. Moving inch by inch, he began to stroke the sides of your hand. If it was in his reach, it didn’t remain untouched. His fingers probed the length of yours, the width of your wrist, and the indentations in your palms… They were tender, but also… curious.

     The bashfulness was starting to get to you, and so you couldn’t help it when you turned your eyes away for a split second. His touch; it felt… so foreign. Like the other day, you could feel the flames he was comprised of bathing your chilled skin in a loving warmth. His body temperature was much warmer than a normal human, but… it didn’t burn. It didn’t hurt. The fire… made you feel safe.

     You looked up at him to meet his eyes, but… you found that his were closed. The look on his face was… enviable. Admirable. He looked so pleasingly contented. Was that… because of you?

     “Better?” His voice surprised you. If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought him to be asleep. His eyes opened lazily... actually, he did look a bit tired now that you were up close.

     Truth be told, you were still feeling the cold from outside… and you were still a tad shaken from the previous encounter. Just holding your hand… Grillby made you feel warm again. He had this odd sense of security about him, and it wasn’t bad.

     “Yeah; thanks, Grillby… You’re really nice.”

      As you finished your statement, you noticed Grillby’s flame saturate itself with a red hue again. There was no questioning it now—he was blushing. His eyes widened when he realized you had taken note to how he had reacted. He maintained his hold on your hand, but lowered his head, and brought his hand up to cover his face. It would be an extraordinary attempt… if he was human. The hue of his flame seemed to reflect whatever emotion he was feeling, so it was a bit hard to hide. All you could do was tilt your head at Grillby’s sudden bashfulness.

     He was softer than you took him to be. His personality was multifaceted. He had all these different reactions to things you did and said, and he had different ways of confronting you that varied on his mood. He was always considerate, and acted on your best interests… but, sometimes he was teasingly flirtatious, and flustered you easily. Other times, he was seriously intimate, and got flustered easily himself. He was dynamic… and you loved that about him.

     You felt like you should compliment him whenever you got the chance to; his muddled face was such a cute thing to see. Oh, my, how the tables had turned…

     Audrey, at the counter—you could see her reflection in the glass panes—she was openly sulking at you and Grillby’s intimacy. You could feel a hearty laugh bubbling up from your chest.

     “You have a really nice laugh.” The compliment was earnest, but you could tell Grillby was trying to get a one up on you from earlier.

     “You do too.” You smirked at him.

     This was a battle you couldn’t lose. You were observant, had a sharp eye… well, maybe not perfect vision, but you’re sure you could find a thousand and one different ways to compliment the monster in front of you. He’d have a more difficult time in _that_ respect, gentleman or not.

     In reaction to having his own flattery rebounded, Grillby’s eyes widened again. He was so caught off guard by any positive thing you said about him; it was… cute, and somewhat surprising. Did he really not see these things in himself? Or, maybe… that was just how you reacted, too. Maybe people and monsters alike don’t notice their finest qualities until someone else appreciates it and points it out for them. Monsters and humans… they really aren’t all that different.

     “I… wasn’t expecting that.” He stuttered while looking away, still embarrassed from the praise.

     You grinned at him. He seemed to enjoy flustering you, so… why not find a way to share that joy?

     You propped your head up with your hand and continued staring at him despite his attention being directed elsewhere. Up close… he looked really nice, as expected. If you leaned to the side, you could see him fiddling with his glasses restlessly. His eyes seemed to be glued to the falling snow outside, so you took the opportune moment… to watch it with him.

     Over at the counter, Audrey was looking prodigiously annoyed at the closeness between Grillby and you. When Hare finally stepped out from the kitchen, she took it as an opportunity to approach him.

     “Hey, can I—“

     “I’m busy.” Hare stated brusquely, not even allowing Audrey to finish her sentence.

     She stood there, agape at his rudeness. He blatantly ignored her stupefied expression, and shimmied on towards your table, drinks in hand. Before he delivered the drinks to your table, he stopped short.

     “… So, when did this development happen?” He wiggled his eyebrows and nodded his beak over to your hand on top of Grillby’s.

     You narrowed your eyes at him, annoyed. He needed to learn how to read the mood. Or, maybe he did, but he decided to ignore it. You kept your hand on top of Grillby’s in spite of his crudeness, and he set your drink down in front of you. As usual, it was your favorite hot chocolate… but, instead of a Styrofoam cup, it was in a… mug. Hare had that shit-eating grin on his beak again… He knew you were going to be staying there for a while.

     “Thanks, Hare.” You gritted out… trying to hide all the bitterness you had previously garnered from him.

     Hare acknowledged your efforts with a wink as he handed a drink off to Grillby as well. “Don’t worry; I’ll keep her busy.”

     Your eyebrow twitched.

     “Well, aren’t you grateful?” He sneered while prancing back behind the counter again.

     You rolled your eyes as he hopped back into the kitchen, leaving Audrey standing there, drumming her fingers on the counter impatiently. When you turned back to your table, you had a satisfied smirk on your face. You hoped the rest of her day would be as shitty as her breakfast.

     Speaking of breakfast, you had a drink to attend to. You were going to make a move for it, but Grillby stopped you. “Hot chocolate?”

     You tilted your head to the side in curiosity. “How’d you know?”

     “… Yesterday.” He muttered as he looked into his coffee.

     Right, yesterday. Hare threw away your hot chocolate. You didn’t pay the comment any mind.

     “By the way, would you mind?” You looked at his hand wrapped around yours.

     “Not at all; go ahead.” He released your hand from his grasp.

     You reached over for your mug, and Grillby did the same.

     You took a deep breath and inhaled the steam wafting over the drink… There were marshmallows and whipped cream floating atop of it, a luxury you didn’t think you’d be treated to that morning. You released staggered blows across the surface of your drink, hoping to cool it down a tad before you took a swig of it. You pressed the rim of the cup to your lips and sipped the warm liquid that poured over the edge… still hot, scalded your taste buds, but it tasted good.

     When you set your drink back down on the table, Grillby plucked a napkin from the dispenser next to him. “You’ve got something on your face.”

     “Huh?” On your face…? Oh, right. There was whipped cream in that hot chocolate. You probably had an embarrassing foam mustache above your lips. You tried to raise your fingers to swab it away, but Grillby intervened.

     “I’ll get it for you.” Grillby expression softened as he took the napkin up to your face, and dabbed at your upper lip. He was looking at you up close, analyzing your features as he dotted the creamy foam away. It was so embarrassing, you did not dare meet his eyes.

     “… There.” Once the job was finished, he pulled away and set the napkin down in front of you.

     That same skittish smile engulfed your face again. What he did—that was… _cheesy_. You were beginning to notice… he was sort of a cheesy guy. “You didn’t have to, but… thanks.”

     Grillby was… going the extra mile to make this act convincing as possible, but… you weren’t sure if it was an act anymore. Either he was a really good actor, or this was… real.

     “… I guess you didn’t have time to get Hare back for breakfast yesterday.” Grillby speculated as much from your interaction with Hare.

     You swept your unrealistic thoughts aside to reply. “Nah, too hectic this morning. Doubt he’d compensate me anyways.” No need to be spacy around your ‘lover.’

     Grillby paused to think, but kept his eyes trained on you. “… I’ll treat you to make up for it, then.”

     You raised your hands up right away and shook them to reject his offer. “Oh, no; it’s okay—“

     “I insist.” Grillby pressed the suggestion onto you stubbornly. “I’m at fault for what happened yesterday as well.”

     … It would be rude to refuse such a kind offer, right..? And, who the hell were you to refuse _free food?_ The thought of Grillby treating you… it was like a dream come true, honestly. You would probably feel guilty about leeching off his wallet later, and you probably should’ve been the one to treat him for all the kindness he had shown you, but… you yielded nonetheless. Better to not to do something you would regret, right? He would probably refuse your offer, anyways. He knew you were short on cash, and you’d be a fool to make a promise you couldn’t keep.

     “Thanks, Grillby. I was looking forward to chewing him out, though.” You glanced over at Hare indicatively.

     Grillby followed your gaze to the back of the counter. “That can be arranged.”

     You eyed him questioningly, and opened your mouth to follow up, but he raised a finger to his lips and shushed you. He discreetly pointed at Hare cooking your meals in the miniature kitchen behind the counter. You turned your head to get a good look at… whatever Grillby was referring to exactly? You still weren’t certain.

     Out of the corner of your eye, you witnessed Grillby snapping his fingers, and, to your surprise, the flame on the stove Hare was cooking on flared up ferociously. The flame came alive suddenly as if it had a mind of its own. The food in the pan was left untouched, but… as Hare was trying to lower the heat, his wing caught on fire. You could hear him squawking frantically as he ran to the sink to put it out. You had to cover your mouth to stifle your laughter at the ridiculous scene. Audrey leaned over the counter to see Hare running around like a headless chicken.

     “Are you okay!?” She yelped at the sight of fire and smoke.

     “Do I look like I’m okay?” He muttered sarcastically as he ran his feathers under some water. “My goddamn wing’s on fire!”

     Hare was screaming, Audrey was screaming, you were laughing, and Grillby was chuckling. You had to cover your own mouth to stifle the hysterical laughter that overcame you. You slapped your hand against your thigh, and wrapped your arm around your stomach to hold it all in. You shouldn’t have been laughing at all seeing Hare suffer like that, but... it was funny, and you could faintly detect the distinct scent of roast fowl.

     “You have magic!” You turned to face Grillby with the dorkiest grin on your face, and he beamed back.

     “That’s what I was trying to tell you yesterday.”

     Oh, right… _yesterday_. You remembered a phone call from your boss awkwardly cutting into your time with Grillby. You reminded yourself to reach into your pocket and silence your phone before continuing.

     “I’m really sorry about cutting you off.” You apologized sincerely, thankful that Grillby had reminded you… but, admittedly, also a bit flustered with yesterday’s events being brought up into the conversation.

     “It’s fine.” He waved off your concern. “What happened after that?”

     “You mean… at work?”

     Grillby nodded his head. He seemed… intrigued to know about your experiences in the workplace. It wasn’t all that glamorous, but you supposed it would be fine… You’d take any opportunity to rant about your awful work relations anyways. You took a large sip of hot cocoa before continuing.

     “My boss… chewed me out… as usual.” You lamented. “He has some beef with me for… some reason, so one small mistake always ends up turning into a big deal.”

     “Apologies for making you late.” Grillby bowed his head in atonement for his request of you the other day.

     “It’s really not a problem.” You shrugged. “Work is always like that.”

     Grillby lifted his head back up, his interested reignited. “You have to deal with that? Every day?”

     “Pretty much.” You nodded your head solemnly. “Work is…” you pinched the bridge of your nose as you looked for the right words to continue, “downright chaotic every single day. Tires me out.” You fell back into your chair and slid down into a slouch, feeling the conversation had stumbled upon an exhausting topic… Oh well. If Grillby wanted to know, you’d tell him.

     “What else happened?”

     You were surprised he pressed for details. There was no way your work was that interesting to him. It was just a dull office job like any other. You passed it off as… plain old curiosity. Maybe he wanted to know if his actions yesterday had affected you severely. Your self-derived explanation seemed reasonable enough. “You sure you really want to know?”

     He only nodded his head in response without another word out of him, the silence urging you to continue.

     … Might as well.

     “The coffee machine in the lounge room caught on fire for the… uh, lemme think… fifth time this week? Another fight broke out in the office between a whopping _four_ of my coworkers this time…” You ran your fingers through your hair, feeling distressed just reminiscing over yesterday’s events. “Actually, I think the fight was _over_ the coffee machine. They _still_ haven’t found the culprit. It’s become sort of the… office mystery by now. I… guess it’s only a matter of time before someone blames it on me. Then, there’s also…” You bobbed your head in Audrey’s direction.

     Grillby heeded your signal. “Ah, I see...” He shuffled in his seat, shifting his weight around to make it more comfortable. “I think I remember… she was the drunk one you escorted home from the party last month.”

     “Yeah… that’s her all right.” You sighed bitterly.

     “It’s not in my place to ask, but…” Grillby leaned in and folded his arms on the table. “Why did you meet up with her this morning if she’s so troubling to you?”

     “Um, that’s the thing: it was accidental.” You placed a hand on your forehead exasperatedly. “She saw me walking, and took it upon herself to start chasing after me. I don’t even know why she was in the neighborhood. She… I think she lives closer to the city in one of those fancy high rises I’d never be able to afford.”

     “Not to cause you any alarm,” Grillby spoke in a quiet voice, “but… I think she may be stalking you.”

     “I mean—” You paused to think about it for a second, “Yeah, that seems pretty plausible, actually.”

     Grillby cocked an eyebrow. “Is she like that at work, too?”

     “Yeah, you can imagine all the weird stares I get from my coworkers.” You mumbled, absentmindedly tracing circles on the table with your finger.

     Grillby nodded his head slowly, taking in all you had to say. “… Have you tried telling her to stop?”

     “Several. So many times that I just… gave up.”

     “… Reported her?”

     “Can’t—no one believes me, and no one listens to me in the first place.”

     It was indisputable now, but small talk was beginning to sound more and more like a therapy session than a mild interest taken in your daily proceeds. Eh, despite that, you sort of appreciated it. Virus didn’t ask you much about your work. You didn’t blame them all too much for their disinterest, though. It really was a boring job. Stressful, but boring.

     “What does she do, exactly?”

     You scrunched your face up reflexively. Audrey at work… ugh.

     “At work, she makes a lot of, uh…” You paused to find a suitable euphemism, “passes at me.”

     Grillby frowned at your explanation, but kept quiet. You could see his flames oscillate agitatedly.

     “I try to keep it as professional as possible, but it’s… hard with her around.”

     With that off your chest, you allowed yourself to take a moment to enjoy your hot chocolate more thoroughly. Grillby waited patiently for you to finish drinking before moving on.

     “Are you enjoying your work?”

     “Of course not.” You smiled at him sadly. Deflated was the only word that could describe your timbre. “But… that’s work for you.” You rested your head on the back of your armchair and stared at the ceiling. “I feel like if I’m not constantly working or surrounded by people, I’ll get jumped.” You interlocked your fingers in your lap and began massaging your hands, still finding them sore from the earlier confrontation. “I mean, it’s not just Audrey either. I don’t trust _anyone_ at work.” You tilted your chin down to catch Grillby’s eye. “I guess it’s sort of like…” you squeezed your wrist and glanced off to the side, “working in a hungry lion’s den.”

     You stopped there to catch your breath, and recompose yourself. Talking about work like that was moderately stressful, but it was good to get out of your system so you didn’t linger on it. An occasion like this was… a rarity. A delicacy, almost. Virus wasn’t exactly someone you could burden with your problems. They had enough problems on their plate as it was. You felt like if you overloaded their circuits, they’d shut themself off… that’s not to say it hadn’t happened already.

     Grillby only allowed you to be aware of some of his perturbations. If he was actually bothered, he wasn’t telling you. Information like this was more likely to be something he would forget in a few hours. In the rush of bartending at a bar with a hefty amount of regulars… consultations like these were probably nothing. He was attentive and concerned, but… you didn’t expect him to remember, or to care. He was there to listen.

     As you closed your eyes and calmed yourself down, you could hear rustling from across the table. You took a peek at what Grillby was up to. Out of his pocket, he pulled out… a cellphone.

     “… You have a phone, right?” He turned his smartphone on and began tapping away at the screen.

     “… Yeah.” You bounced back to your normal position as you slipped your phone out of your pocket.

     After swiping through a few screens on his phone, Grillby extended his arm over the table to offer it to you. “Why don’t we exchange numbers, then?”

     The question hung heavy in the air above your head. This whole thing was… a bit unrealistic. He was offering to exchange… numbers with you? This was… completely irrelevant to the whole act in front of Audrey now. Definitely. While she was fuming at the counter, she was distracted. An ideal moment to make the exchange, but… How would this benefit him in any way? What was… the end goal here…? You couldn’t see it—his intentions. Or, maybe you were hanging around with Hare too much. Not everyone was as business oriented as he was. You told yourself a pinch on the arm wouldn’t hurt, but… you didn’t want to wake up from this dream.

     “… Really?” You sounded pensive, quiet, but you were already moving to take his phone regardless. “You’d be okay with that?”

     “Of course.” He smiled at you reassuringly, and pushed the phone closer to you still.

     You handed your phone over to him once his was in your hand. He pried it out of your hand slowly, his slim fingers sliding past yours. It was a fleeting touch practically completely unnoticeable, but he was analyzing your face for a reaction. He was doing that again—checking up on you. He could tell you were perhaps a bit… suspicious. Maybe antsy…. but, for the wrong reason. Recalling your bad luck all the times before this… to stumble upon such good fortune… anyone would be a tiny bit suspicious.

     You began entering your contact into his phone. No funny business, no looking at his other contacts, or putting weird symbols by your name… it looked mediocre, but that’s how you wanted it. When you were finished, you handed your phone back to him, and he followed suit.

     “… Thanks.” You rubbed the back of your neck and smiled sheepishly.

     “For whenever you need to talk…” He trailed off as he put his phone away. You got the idea.

     Despite his reassurance, you knew you wouldn’t be calling or texting him anytime soon. You wouldn’t be able to stomach the anxiety. You’d probably get jittery, and say something stupid over a call, or make some ridiculously horrible typo that would change your sentence meaning entirely… that’s what you got with your chances. Nothing new there. This time… was just an exception.

     “I’m sorry I can’t offer you any advice about your work.” His words were filled with an apologetic sincerity… but they didn’t need to.

     “There’s nothing to apologize for.” You smiled at him, hopefully cheerily, as you returned your phone to its rightful place. “My situation’s always been a difficult one.”

     You figured the conversation had reached its end right there. No outsider, or stranger, would want a deeper look into your problematic life. It was something most people wanted no part of. It was that hands-off approach that Virus took to all too often. They did their job, and you did yours. It was systematic, but it worked. Mutually beneficial that way. You assumed Grillby would do the same.

     “… Have you considered finding another job?” But, Grillby wasn’t a stranger, you guessed.

     “Another job?” It wasn’t something you thought of very often, but… you already knew that it wouldn’t work out the way you wanted. “Doesn’t sound like a bad idea; but doesn’t sound possible either.”

     Grillby tilted his head at you, confused at your reluctance. “Why not?”

     “I feel like I’m…” You drummed your fingers against the table, “underqualified.” You shrugged, and took another sip of your drink. “Just completing college… it doesn’t get you places like it used to.”

     “You never know until you try.” He said, trying to keep an optimistic note in his voice.

     “Oh, believe me, Grillby—I tried. I mean, that’s how I ended up where I am now…” You smiled at him again, but it was more… melancholy than the last.

     Silence.

     “… Sorry, that was insensitive of me.” His flame seemed to waver for a moment.

     You shrugged and flashed him a wide grin. “No offense taken.”

     It really was okay. You didn’t want to plague him with your past. It was… difficult. School was difficult. Work was difficult. You would’ve loved to have taken some easy road up, but there wasn’t one open… for you, at least. That’s how it was—life. A struggle. You struggled every day. That’s what drew you to the café in the first place. It was a place where your struggles seemed so… trivial. As if they didn’t seem to exist anymore. Pointless. Insignificant. Unimportant. Was that asking too much?

     There was a lull in the discussion, and a calming quiet followed soon after. You could hear the sounds of the café. It was… nostalgic at that point. You had spent the past month here. Coming, and going, day after day. The sounds, sights, and smells—they were all so familiar, but… now you had the opportunity to sit here and share it with Grillby.

     A month ago, where you were now… wouldn’t have seemed like it was in the realm of possibility. Seeing that formal and reticent silhouette parade in and out of the café every day, only to be watched, but never to be talked to… He sat there, in front of you. Eyes shut, positively serene, occasionally savoring his beloved coffee.

     When you allowed your eyelids to shut, in the darkness, you could hear the ordinary noises that poured out from the kitchen in the morning. It was the sound of drinks pouring, gears working, machines whirring, coffee steaming. You could hear Hare’s feet tapping across the café floor to and fro. The water in the sink dribbled out of the faucet by the milliliter, oil in the pans sizzled up, and water in the pots boiled endlessly. You could hear iron and wood strike the counter as Hare worked at an array of dishes furiously. Plates being placed on the counter. Silverware being tossed about. An unintelligible murmur filled every nook and cranny of the store. The second hand on the clock ticking away. If you hadn’t been so familiar with it, you would’ve labeled the symphony as hectic. But… it was home to you.

     “You know…” Grillby’s voice interrupted your peace of thought.

     “Yes...?” You blinked your eyes open to meet his gaze.

     Grillby’s cheek was supported by his hand as his elbow leaned on the tabletop casually. “I would ask you to work with me, but…” He beamed at you loftily. “I wouldn’t get any actual work done if that was the case.”

     It sounded like an afterthought, but… too low-key supercilious to _be_ an afterthought. You assumed that he had taken a long pause from the earlier conversation’s cut-off, or… maybe it was a random thought that broached his mind. No matter the reason for being, what he said was… intriguing. Was he implying that you and him…?

     A raucous thud resonated from behind your seat, the vibrations it sent through you were enough to adequately startle you. When you turned around, you saw Audrey slumped against the coat stand. Had she just… walked into that on her own?

      Ah, maybe that’s why Grillby had spoken up then—to distract, and make a fool out of her. He was more calculatingly crafty than you gave him credit for.

     “Oh, uh…” She spluttered, her face turning beet red as a result of her clumsiness. “Sorry to intrude.” She awkwardly adjusted the unbalanced pole, and, now disquieted, skirted the wall to the door evade your eyes.

     You couldn’t help but sneer at her fatuousness. “See you at work, Audrey.” You dragged out your sendoff, making it sound more sarcastic than perhaps you even intended.

     Once she had scampered out of sight and out of mind, you released a deep breath. “Whew… that’s a relief.” You rubbed your cheek against the sleeve of your sweater in fulfilled relief.

     “Feeling more relaxed now?” Grillby studied the refreshed ease that washed over you. From what it looked like, being in Audrey’s presence for too long certainly did a number on you.

     You rubbed the side of your head with your wrist, giving yourself a much needed massage.  “Definitely.” You folded your arms on the table, and let your head cradle into them. “I wish she’d leave me alone…” you mumbled, muffled by your facedown state.

     Grillby eyed you wordlessly for a while. Your head was tucked into your arms, lazily rubbing into the fabric of your sleeve. It was soft and comforting. It was incredibly obvious you had a headache, and you had no intention of hiding it.

     “… Let me see.” His decisive demand was oddly grim—a change of mood from earlier.

     You knew it well: that wasn’t a question; it was a command.

     You lifted your head to peer up at him.

     “Excuse me?” You certainly did have a headache, but… what the hell brought that kind of attitude on? You hoped he was sincerely just… fucking around with you. He had used that same tone with Audrey earlier, and you sure as hell didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his anger. The look on his face… you expected it to be enough to startle you, but… instead, it looked thoughtful; a bit stern, but… thoughtful.

     “Your hand again.” He emphasized his previous order, and offered you his hand right after.

     “… Alright.” You complied without much hesitation.

     For whatever reason, you trusted him. He hadn’t given you any reason to distrust him after all. He had saved you from a sticky situation _and_ treated you out to breakfast… It was the least you could do from your position.

     As you straightened your back, you placed your hand on his just as instructed. You didn’t acquiesce out of fear, but… out of trust. He said he’d take care of you, didn’t he?

     “Can’t believe I missed this…” He murmured to himself, sounding… irked. It was… as if he was scolding his own incompetence.

     You leaned forward to get a glimpse of what he was looking at… Ah, your wrist.

     He gripped your hand, but made sure to do so gently. His fingers smoothly glided across your skin as they made their way to your sleeve. He didn’t ask for permission. He rolled your sleeve down painstakingly slow, and the injury gradually unveiled itself.

     In the clean lighting, in front of you, you could see it now. You hand had remained untouched by Audrey’s wrath, but… you couldn’t say the same of your wrist. The tender skin was shot with an array of discolorations. It looked raw, and newly formed. They were ugly bruises you knew wouldn’t be disappearing for a while. The scratches she had marked you with… gods, she really was like an angry lion, wasn’t she?

     You hadn’t given it too much thought then—escaping was the only thing fresh on your mind. This display right here… mirrored an incapability to take care of yourself—did it not? It was just like Virus... Just like them.

     “… She did this to you?” Grillby’s voice sounded oddly rigid as he examined the damage inflicted upon you. He didn’t touch the abrasions directly, but twisted and turned your hand to get a better view of them.

     “… Yeah; she’s a lot stronger than she looks.” You uttered surly.

     After a few moments of scrutiny, Grillby let out a hefty sigh. Instead of releasing your hand as you anticipated, he brought it up near his face… Oh, you knew where this was going.

     A soft kiss greeted your knuckles, sending a jolt of heat up your arm and into the rest of your body.

     “… Well,” his steamy breath doused the back of your hand, “at least now she knows that you’re mine.” The intensity of the stare he gave you held you in place.

     His words struck you speechless. His? You were… his? That… was definitely a joke. That was it. He was just continuing that silly sort of stage play he performed in front of Audrey. His faulty flirtatiousness flared up at the oddest of moments, and it never failed to catch you off guard. In the end, Grillby was just… joking. Haha… where was the punchline? Were you supposed to laugh?

     “Very funny, Grillby…” You laughed uneasily.

     Before your hand slipped out and away from his grasp, he gave it a squeeze. You faltered for a brief moment. All the sounds around you came to a stop. All you could hear was the beating of your own heart ringing in your ears. That familiar feeling of blood rushing to your face. You could feel your ears heating up. If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought your blood had started boiling.

     Of all the times to get flustered… why was it happening now? All he did was squeeze your damn hand… or maybe you subconsciously knew it already—how downright _cheesy_ he was being. Grillby didn’t want to let go of you. This was exactly what happened yesterday.

     You leaned to the side and smothered your face into the fabric dressing the junction of your arm. “Can you stop fucking around with me?” You mumbled out the first thing that came to mind, stumbling and tripping over your own words.

     It surprised you that you were even able to voice a coherent sentence, but… that was undoubtedly rash on your part. Blunt, rude, vulgar… You were so disrespectful that it startled even you. You couldn’t find enough adjectives to describe how insulting that must have been. The outburst came apart of that feeling at the back of your mind that Grillby was just stringing you along. All your anxieties and worries had a tendency to make themselves known when he was so forward. You… couldn’t even blame yourself. You wanted to apologize, turn your blunder into a joke, and laugh off the situation like it had never happened… but you knew better, and kept quiet, fearfully awaiting Grillby’s response.

     “… Is that what you think I’m doing?”

     You shifted your arm to get a better angle of his face. He was… serious. This wasn’t a joke. There was no hint of playfulness in his expression, but a sweltering earnestness that would be enough to make a schoolgirl blush. He was not flirting, he was not joking: he was speaking on level with you. But you still couldn’t believe it, and he saw it in your eyes.

     Grillby took up your hand again, but, instead of kissing it, he laid it to rest against his cheek. He cradled his head in the palm of your hand, and looked at you sincerely. Against the tips of your fingers, you could feel his fire—his magic—pulsing through his being. Your entire body felt absolutely warm throughout. He was striking, charming. Could a distraction as pleasant as this be considered sinful?

     The look he was giving you rendered you flushed. Your face went beet red, but you noticed… his did, too. Grillby’s flames were a somewhat different color—a bit ridder versus his normal orange. You felt a bit comforted at the thought—you weren’t the only getting flustered.

     “You know, I’ve wanted you ever since I saw you at my bar last month.” He nuzzled his cheek into your hand. You would’ve taken his manner to be suggestive, but, then, he let out a sigh of pure content. “… I remember that night so vividly.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steady himself. “Did you notice me? I kept making rounds to your table to catch a glimpse of you. What a fool I am…” A small, shy smile spread across his face as he chuckled to himself. “You were so annoyed that you were the only sober one. You looked distant the whole night, but, when you addressed me…” He opened his eyes and grinned at you; he was brimming with happiness. “You brightened up almost instantly.” He released your hand from against his cheek, and you laid it against the table’s surface.

     You were just short of what you would have assumed to be awestruck. _It sounded like Grillby was goddamn infatuated with you._ Just like you were with him. Last month, at the bar… how did you miss it? Did he even show it? Why were you hearing this just now? You felt… silly, embarrassed, overjoyed… All these emotions collapsing in on one another. You didn’t laugh—just held his gaze steadily. You didn’t want to scare him away, not now. Nonetheless, you wondered how it was possible… you, just you, could have this kind of effect on him. He was a flushed mess; you could tell. His stoic composure was crumbling away, and it was all because of… you.

    “I… really liked hearing your voice.” He admitted, sounding shy. He leaned over to the side and replaced your hand with his own to support himself. “You handled your coworkers really well.” He lowered his head and moved his hand to rub the back of his head.

     All these compliments were doing a great deal to the redness of your face. Hearing it, you presumed, was just about as embarrassing as saying it, because Grillby’s flames flickered unsurely in the café light. It was a stunning blend of reds, pinks, and oranges glowing altogether. _Captivating_ … That was the only word you could use to describe it. You could only look on in wonder.

     Grillby looked up at you shyly from behind his thin frames. “At the end of the night, I helped you get into the taxi with your coworker.” His reminiscence was endearing. “Don’t you remember what you did to me?” He lifted his head up completely to meet you head on. Your eyes widened at the familiarity of his statement, and you felt yourself slowly becoming unsettled, but...

     “That smile of yours.” Grillby’s grin was vibrant; he was beaming at you. He looked thrilled just… talking about the events that conspired that night. And he was fussing about _your_ smile? His was handsome, and so much more. You couldn’t even compare it to yours.

     That night… It was true Grillby visited your table often. You had assumed it was because your coworkers were getting rowdier by the minute, but… not because of _you_. That whole party was such a blur. You could barely remember the faces of the people there. It was all smudged together. You only found some clarity when you looked up, and saw Grillby patiently waiting your table. He was your guiding beacon the whole night; his dazzling light brought you peace.

     It was also true that during the meeting… you had been blatantly miffed. You didn’t even try to hide it. Your coworkers had forced you to come even if they knew you didn’t drink, so you didn’t see a reason to be discreet about your pessimism. Actually recalling your bitter mood then, you were certain that you didn’t smile at all…

     Except once.

     His hand… you remembered it now. You’ve held it before. It was only once, and briefly, but… it certainly did happen.

     At the night’s end… Audrey was stumbling pretty badly. She could barely even walk straight. As she was, you didn’t trust her to get home safely by herself, and you were sure someone would capitalize on her intoxication. You hobbled along with her to catch a taxi as Grillby stuffed the others into their own. Before you had even thrown her in, she was already belching…

 

 ----

 

     “Hey, you got any barf bags?” You called out to the driver as you shoved Audrey into the cab.

     “Nope, sorry.” He waved at you apologetically.

     You sighed exaggeratedly at your misfortune. You didn’t want Audrey’s vomit all over your lap on the ride home. These were your damn _work clothes_. You had to get going, and soon. You were holding the driver up, and—

     “… Here.” Paper bags appeared in front of your face not a minute after your lamentation.

     “Hey, thanks!” You gushed out excitedly at the fortune you had stumbled upon. You took the bags without hesitation, and looked up at your savior... To your surprise, it was the bartender.

     “… Take my hand.” His voice was musky. He reached out to you.

     You silently did as he had commanded, and he held your hand to assist you as you situated yourself in the taxi. It was awfully polite of him, after the shitty night you had. Helpless to compensate him in any way, you couldn’t help but flash him that gratuitously lopsided grin of yours in return.

     _“Thank you, Grillby.”_

 

 ----

 

     That was it. That was the moment he was describing to you. It had happened so fast, it had nearly escaped you completely…

     …

     What… was happening?

     “You caught me.” Grillby muttered his open confession to you, as his index finger and thumb pressed against his forehead. “It’s your fault; won’t you do something about it?” He sounded so… desperate. It was strange to hear that kind of tone from him, needy and wanting. It was… a legitimate request. A plea. He was… begging.

     _He was asking you to love him._

     You were at a loss for words. This was all… new to you. So much information in such a limited amount of time. You weren’t sure how to swallow it all.

     Your prolonged silence prompted him to continue.

     “You know… I’m sorry; I couldn’t help it.”

     Now, what was he apologizing for—

     “I’ve been… watching you. Ever since that night.”

     Was that… a confession on top of another confession? He sounded positively ashamed, but…

     _What did he just say?_

     He had been watching you. Grillby was watching you…? Since last month? At the bar? You started to confuse yourself with the immense figure of questions accumulating in your head. He had been watching you. This whole time.

     You couldn’t keep your jaw from coming off its hinges even if you wanted to. The sudden realization… it all made sense somehow. He knew all these subtle things about you. He knew your name. He knew your favorite food to eat in the morning. He knew where you sat. Most importantly of all, he knew _you_. That’s why he could be as casual and lax around you as he wanted to be without it seeming odd…

     This whole time…

     You both knew each other.

     You opened your mouth to say something, but a piece of French toast suddenly appeared there… in your mouth. Hare had just shoved a piece of bread in your mouth. _What the fuck?_

     “No making out in the café.” He squawked noisily, setting down your plates on the table as jittery as possible.

     They procured a safe landing with your assistance, despite there still being bread stuck in your mouth. Grillby chuckled at your irritancy, as if he had put everything he had just said behind him.

     The hot food in front of you smelled… delicious. Your stomach grumbled, providing a momentary distraction from the table’s previous state of affairs. You thoughtfully chewed the piece of food that had been inelegantly shoved into your mouth as you surveyed what was before you.

     It looked like Hare tried to up his a-game today, or put some actual effort into the meals this time. Usually, plate arrangements for you were messy or tossed together. He knew you didn’t actually care how your food looked as long as it was… food. You weren’t sure how Grillby’s food usually looked, but… it looked as equally scrumptious. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it.

     A line of crisp, fresh-out-of-the-oven pieces of toast was arranged on your plate… one of them looked like they had a piece missing—it was probably in your mouth. A scoop of creamy butter adorned the fronting bread, your favorite type of syrup was glazed over the whole of them, and powdered sugar was sprinkled in meager amounts atop each parcel. A variety of fruits were laid out neatly beside the toast, out of the syrup’s way. It had strawberries, kiwis, blueberries, raspberries… Were those even in season?

     Grillby’s platter looked just as tasty—it had fruits of a similar caliber on the side of a stack of pancakes and fried eggs. He had syrup and butter on his pancakes, similar to your French toast. The yolks of his eggs were a vivid yellow, so you assumed them to be sunny side up. He also had a couple of pieces of buttered toast bread on the side. You had to contain a drop of drool from escaping your mouth. You hadn’t realized before how hungry you actually were.

     Hare arranged the respective silverware in their rightful places beside the plates. After that, if he had just excused himself quietly, you would have let him off without an eye twitch, an annoyed sigh… none of it. But, of course, he _had_ to have the last word. _Had to._

     “Have a _pheasant_ breakfast.”

     Your eye twitched as he ungraciously winked at you, and sauntered off once again. You scrunched up your face, and picked up your fork to begin eating. As you were, you noticed Grillby was staring at his own food, fork and knife in hand.

     “… You said you’d tell me if you weren’t comfortable, right?” He lifted his head up to look at you, somewhat… downtrodden. You remained quiet as he shook his head. “Forget everything I said; enjoy your meal.”

     And with that, he began to eat. He said nothing more, and began slicing away at his food in silence. You looked down at your own food despondently, but… you picked up your knife, and cut into the food.

     _Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut._

_Stab._

     …

     It tasted bittersweet.

     The atmosphere was oppressive. Neither wanted to speak, neither wanted to make too much noise to attract attention to themselves… this was exactly how it was before. How it always was, always had been. A silence between you two, a distance neither had the courage to bridge completely. You both had tried, and you both had failed.

     _What were you supposed to do?_

     …

     You chewed away at your fruits thoughtfully.

     …

     What was the only thing you _could_ do?

     …

     You slowly lifted your head up.

     _Watch him._

     Grillby’s shoulders were stiff as he ate, he refused to make eye contact with you for now. Perhaps it was better that way, to grant you some time to think. His collar was a bit crooked, but he reached up to adjust it while he was eating. It was a wonder how he was keen enough to sense the slightest discrepancy in his image. He had rolled up his sleeves so as to not dirty them… The fire for his hands and wrists looked as splendid as did the rest of him.

     You gazed up at his mouth as he ate. It was cute. His mouth was cute. Every single line was defined against the inside’s composition—a plain, washed out color, that glowed fiercely. Closed, the jagged line fluctuated as he chewed his food quietly. His glasses were always nice and clean. The thin frames suited him. It was odd imagining him in with anything thicker, although… he wouldn’t look bad. He never did, after all. Through the transparent lenses, you could pick out his eyes and brows among the flames. His expression looked indifferent, but… his eyes were distant, vaguely so. He appeared to be unfocused as he ate his food.

     The time on the clock ticked away. You could hear the second hand moving. It pounded down on your shoulders, the burden growing with every second. Time. You were running out of time. The meal would end soon, the two of you were near finished eating. Your drinks were cold by now; the table was getting progressively desolate. _You had to leave soon._ What was it… maybe ten minutes? It wasn’t enough. There was never enough time.

     You weren’t sure what to do, what to say… how to respond. Your thoughts fazed back to the way his voice tremored earlier. It was utterly desperate. His request… You couldn’t deny it; you felt the exact same way. The distance between you was insufferable. But… what could you say to bridge that gap?

     Your eyes widened in sudden realization. Your fork nearly slid out from your hand, but you caught it before it could.

     He didn’t know. Grillby didn’t know. He may have picked up several things about you, but he didn’t know how _you_ felt. At the bar, after that night, why you came to the café in the first place…

     There were so many things you wanted to tell him, but so little time _to_ tell him. But…

     You had to start somewhere.

     “Hey, Grillby.” Your words sounded like… the ghost of an afterthought. It was as if you weren’t actually saying it; it was just flying off the tip of your tongue, and into the thin air. The words you had left unsaid for a whole month would start flowing out, and you knew… you couldn’t keep them anymore. Like you, they had a schedule to keep, too.

     Grillby looked up at you, surprised… as if he had expected to never get a single word out of you again.

     He had confessed, and, now… it was your turn.

     It was probably in your best interests not to talk with your mouth full, but… you did it anyways. “I remember that night…” You trailed off to pop another fruit into your mouth.

     “At the table,” you began, “I wasn’t focused on the party at all.” You drew out the sentence, drawling certain syllables. Your thrilling sluggishness would have had anyone else hanging off their chair, but not Grillby. He sat there, looking onward patiently awaiting your response. That all too serious look on his face. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, sure, but he was clearly tense. But, it wasn’t actually for dramatic effect—you were just… chewing, and shifting around food in your mouth. Sometimes, hunger was insatiable.

     You recalled the scenery at Grillby’s bar. There was only one way you could describe it—blurry. “I couldn’t concentrate on my coworkers.”

     To put it in analogies, it was like… looking through the lens of a camera that had been… smudged. The details were blurry, you couldn’t make out most of the big picture... oh, but it wasn’t the alcohol doing that! No, it wasn’t, and the reason was quite obvious why.

     “Whatever you saw… I was being half-assed.” One leg in, one leg out, spacious and airy… that’s the only way you could have described yourself on that fateful night. If Grillby had found you attractive in that state, then… well, damn. Maybe he wasn’t as shallow as you were.

     You prodded at the leftover blueberries on your plate with the tip of your fork. A bit sour, you had to admit. You rolled blueberries across the expanse of your… relatively empty plate. The most that they got caught on was the remaining maple syrup you had neglected to eat. As they tossed and turned, the resultant route was traced with a sticky trail of the brown fluid. _Yum._

     Your mind undeniably elsewhere, Grillby probably thought it right to speak up. You _were_ talking about his bar and all, and, if you were trying to be discreet about fancying him, you sure as hell weren’t doing a fantastic job of it. Not in the sense that it was so obvious you could’ve strangled the idea on the spot, but in the sense that it was convoluted and vague. Intervention was certainly within his power, and rightfully so, but you raised a hand to stop him.

     “I mean, allow me to get to the point here.” You put down your fork and finally looked up to meet him square in the eye. Your newfound daringness had probably shocked the poor monster. In fact, who wouldn’t be? You displayed such convincing submissiveness yesterday, even you would have been conned as a spectator. Then again, you were human, and, like monsters, humans could have several personalities.

     “You and I?” Your pointer finger waggled between Grillby and you capriciously, its target rotating by the second, and mood, not even a minute. “We both know I didn’t have a _single_ drink that night.”

     Grillby nodded along to what you said. So, it was evident, he had noticed that about you too. Or… he could have reviewed the bill after everything was said and done. Every good bartender did that, didn’t they? But, all logical explanations were out the door—no, the window. This fix you were in was _entirely_ irrational—something of a differing caliber you had never stumbled across before. So, you were craftily formulating your own remedy: a means to an end.

     “Sitting alone, and sober at a drinking party… What do you _really_ think I spent most of the night doing?” Sarcasm dripped from your voice; you could’ve refilled the empty cups on the table with it. However, it was soon overtaken by a patchy chortle and a shake of your head.

     Grillby, if you thought you knew him as well as you did, would have mistaken that for a sardonic shot at his own attentiveness, but… really, you were laughing at yourself. Smiling silly at your own ineptitude. The signs were there, it’s just… neither of you read them. Coincidentally, under two pairs of observant eyes, such a prominent detail went untouched.

     Grillby tapped a finger against his chin in thought, but it looked satirical if anything. “Admiring your beautiful reflection in your full glass, I assumed.”

     You chuckled at Grillby’s comeback, and your ridiculous smile brought out one of his own. Hopefully _that_ wasn’t your charming point.

     You laid your back against the chair’s support, and propped your elbows up on the arms, one adjacent to the window. It was so close, you could feel a slight chill seeping in from the outside… It was a pleasant contrast, being on the boundary of the cold and warmth. The moment’s subtle placidity allowed you the time to examine Grillby. He was taking everything considerably well. Either that, or he was at a loss of words to intervene. Whatever the case, he had that odd childlike curiosity in his eyes that made it difficult to keep the corners of your mouth from curling up into a smile. The fire glinted curiously as well, particles being discarded into the air above as it rolled and wavered.

     “I kept taking glances at you while you served the other tables. Kept thinking about how nice you looked, how addictive your voice was…” You interlocked both your hands and lifted them to your chin. _“Music to my ears.”_

     You hummed contentedly when Grillby’s fire burned a shade redder. His fingers fumbled with his glasses clumsily in the meanwhile. No matter how adorable he was being, all good things had to come to an end.

     It was time to draw the curtain on this prolonged monologue.

     You made sure that he was looking at you when you spoke. “I didn’t drink at all,” you admitted, “because I wanted to remember you the next morning.”

     Grillby brought a hand up to his forehead to hide his reaction. “… I could’ve sworn you had one drink.” He grumbled to himself as he avoided your eyes.

     Chuckling, you continued. “Did you think I was tipsy?” Your inflection made the suggestion itself seem preposterous.

     “That’s what it looked like.” Grillby shrugged, sneaking a glance at you.

     You snickered at his obliviousness. “I was _blushing_.” This was a new level of denseness for the both of you.

     “You're joking.” Grillby removed his hand from his face as he interjected out of disbelief.

     “But it’s the truth.” You said smugly.

     “Well then…” Grillby looked down, slid his glasses off, and used the hem of his shirt to wipe at the lenses tediously. “I guess that makes me somewhat… incompetent, doesn’t it?”

     “On the contrary; you’re very capable, Grillby… it was such a relief having you there.”

     The compliment nearly had the monster drop his glasses right onto his lap when he looked up again.

     One last push. One last one. That was all.

     “You know something else?” You tilted your head at Grillby inquisitively.

     However, you had that sly look on your face. Playful, wry, but not as teasing as you were before. Grillby caught onto this shift, and leaned forward to keep his full attention on you.

     “… What is it?” He folded his arms on the table and awaited your response.

     How to go about this, you wondered… It was a bit delicate. You couldn’t say it outright. It was obvious Grillby would know now that you reciprocated a majority of his feelings, but… there was one matter you had left untouched. You supposed, a subtle, roundabout method would be the best way of approaching the topic.

     You caught a strand of your hair in between your fingers and twirled it around mindlessly. “… I hate Hare.” You stated, matter-of-factly.

     Grillby let out a bout of light laughter, sounding amused, masking a tinge of disappointment. “I knew that already.”

     “But do you know _why?_ ”

     Grillby shook his head slowly. His eyes blinked, filled to the brim with an intrigue you hadn’t imagined you could inspire within him. It was... a look that was astute, thoughtful, conscientious… like he was trying to solve the puzzle in front of him without all the pieces. But, you would give him that last piece he needed.

     “He got me to confess that I’d been watching you for the last month.”

     The look on Grillby’s face mirrored yours from earlier: _awe_. Absolute, undeniable _awe_.

     “Isn’t it funny?” You found a simper unknowingly adorning your face. “He could have ratted me out, but he made me do it myself.” You slid your thumb and index finger up against your cheek. “Guess it’s kind of ironic since I was trying my best to keep it a secret.”

     You pick up your, ironically, cold hot chocolate, and inhaled its remaining richness. It gave you some relief from Grillby’s scalding stare. There was no doubt there would be questions and comments to follow what you had said. You breathed in deeply as you removed the rim of the cup from your moistened lips.

     _You had really done it now._

     What surprised you the most, is, after that… there was nothing to follow up. None of the anticipated questions, comments, or concerns… Grillby was just… looking at you. For once, you couldn’t read him. What he was thinking and feeling right then was a complete mystery to you. All he did was… continue to look. What was in that look? Love, fear, hate, dread… it could have been any of those things. Why was he doing that? Why wouldn’t he say anything?

     You lowered your head. Why? “… Stop looking at me like that.”

     “Why?”

     That was the exact question you were asking yourself. Why? “It’s embarrassing.”

     “What; are you going to make me take back everything I said if I don’t?” Grillby snorted, and leaned over the table to brush a strand of hair out of your face. “I do this for a hobby.” He smirked at you haughtily. The reactionary glare made him laugh. “I still can’t believe it, honestly. Are you sure you’re not lying?”

     “I’m in as much shock as you are, frankly.” Your eyes widened in exaggeration. “And—don’t pin it on me!” You spluttered out, baffled. “Ask yourself the same question.” You pointed at Grillby accusingly. “I mean, how’s it possible we never caught each other’s eye in the first place?” He couldn’t blame you for questioning the reality of the situation. The predicament itself was wholly coincidental. The odds of an event like this playing out in your favor was unprecedented.

     “Who knows?” Grillby answered surly and indirectly. “Maybe we’re just that good at keeping secrets.”

     The two of you shared a bout of laughter, saturating the atmosphere in its normal laxity.

     The secret was out. It was finally out. All your cards were on the table. No more secrets, no more guilt, and no more lies. You could relax now; breathe a little easier. Grillby knew that, and he felt the same way as well. To think that he had been doing the exact same thing as you for the past month. The chances of it happening were nearly impossible—the both of you missing each other’s glances consistently for a whole month must’ve been due to some cosmic alignment Hare dared to disrupt. It turned out, your infatuation… wasn’t yours alone.

     But, wait—what the hell did that mean for _you_?

      The big question was bound to be in order eventually; there was no way you could avoid it. If he had been observing you as closely as you had to him, that could only mean he had feelings for you—which he did confess. So… did that mean he liked you the same way you liked him? Wait, wait… why was he even looking at you in the first place? Since he was a regular at the café, wouldn’t it have been too coincidental for his love interest to just… appear at his café of choice one fine day… or month? He should’ve questioned that if he was watching as closely as he said he was. Did Hare tell him before you had a chance to? What was your relationship status with him _now?_ It wasn’t like he had asked you out or something… good lord.

     Grillby’s words abruptly brought an end to your thoughts. You had to focus on the here and now. This was… a problem easily dealt with by… the tomorrow’s you. Or the day after tomorrow’s you. Any of the other you’s except the you of now. You made yourself look as attentive and presentable as possible, holding his gaze and discarding—or recycling—all previous thoughts for a later time. This was urgent.

     “You know, even if you hate Hare…” Grillby look from you to Hare, who was working furiously at the countertop with a dampened cloth in wing. “I’m indebted to him.”

     _Indebted to Hare?_ But… why? Did miss the memo or something?

     “I only found you again thanks to him.” Grillby nodded back towards Hare’s direction. But, of course. As a café owner, you would be obligated to point out a patron if asked… correct? “When I brought you up in a conversation with him, he told me you were a regular at the café. I doubted him, but… he was telling the truth. You always sit in the same exact spot. How bizarre is that?”

     “… He told you _I’m_ a regular here?” You pointed to yourself skeptically.

     “… Yes, why?” He responded, sounding unsure.

     You slammed your hand down on the table. “Hare told me,” you used your other hand to point at Grillby accusingly, “you’re a regular.”

     Both Grillby and you turned to look at Hare in unison.

     “ _That son of a bitch conned us._ ” You groaned, utterly defeated, your hands flying up to pull at your hair in distress.

     “… That…” Grillby leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, seeming to recover from the initial shock immediately, “makes sense.”

     You looked up at Grillby amidst your agony. “What does?”

     He adjusted his glasses slightly. “He made both of us come to the café—that made us debtors... and, valued customers.” Grillby tapped the side of his head. “The mind of the entrepreneur.”

     “In that case, the spirits of business and Christmas won’t be the only things haunting him after today…” You muttered curses under your breath, all aimed at Hare. Hopefully one of them would have enough pizzazz to actually materialize into a deadly hex. There were rumors of humans having magic, too… right?

     “Relax, relax…” Grillby snapped his fingers to bring you back to him. “Like you said yesterday, this is just… something we can make a toast to at the party tonight.”

     Despite his reassurance, you didn’t look convinced.

     “I know it’s not in my place to ask, but, please…” Grillby looked at you seriously. “Trust me.”

     You tilted your head at him with a weakened expression. “… How can you be so calm?” You clenched your fist on the table. “The damn bird basically made off with a month’s worth of lunch money.” You placed your palm against your forehead. “Which—when adding it all up—amounts to a damn lot.”

     “I’m not; I just hide it well…” he paused, “usually.”

     Usually? What was that pause..?

     A sudden vibration against your hip startled you into a jump. That… was your phone. You pulled it out of your pocket and quickly checked the screen… It was an alarm. It was time to go to work. You swiped to silence it.

     “I’m really sorry; I gotta get to work.” You looked up at Grillby apologetically as you shoved your phone back into your pocket.

     Right. You didn’t have a lot of time before your confession, so it only made sense that time was… up. It wasn’t like you really wanted to leave, but… reality was calling.

     “No need to apologize. I don’t want to keep you like yesterday.” Grillby watched as you began smoothing out your work clothes.  

     “Aha… yeah... It’s all good.” Yesterday was a topic you desperately wanted to avoid right now.

     As you started tidying up your area on your side of the table, Grillby placed his hand over yours. You whipped your head up to look at him. It was a soft and gentle grasp… It was like… he didn’t want to let you go.

     “I’ll see you again tonight, won’t I?” He looked into your eyes, searching for an answer.

     You hesitated for a moment, at a loss for words, but quickly recollected yourself. “… Yes.” The one worded response was all you managed to choke out.

     You excused yourself from the table and made your way to the coat rack by the door. You reached up to remove your coat from it, but another hand beat you to it.

     “Allow me.”

     You turned around. Grillby was holding your jacket. He was willing to help you into it?

     “… Thank you.” You smiled at him serenely.

     The line for his mouth fluctuated a bit, and the flames for his eyes wavered marginally. Was he embarrassed…?

     How cute.

    He held your jacket up for you and guided the sleeves up your arms. He smoothed out the wrinkles for you as you adjusted the collar.

     Grillby placed a hand on your shoulder. “… Do you really have to go to work today?” He whispered into your ear. You turned to look at him incredibly surprised. Did he really just suggest that? You quirked your eyebrow and opened your mouth to respond, but he stopped you short. “… Just kidding.” He had that smug little smirk on his face… something akin to yesterday. He had an odd way of getting his hand at revenge.

     “Hilarious.” You rolled your eyes at him as you zipped your jacket up.

     Grillby’s hand slowly slid off your shoulder and fell to the sides of your arms. You turned to look at him curiously.

     “What is it?” You questioned him.

     He had a concerned look on his face as he squeezed at the sides of your jacket. “Are you going to be okay?”

     “What do you mean? At work?” You questioned him, appalled. “Nothing… namely bad has ever happened, so why start worrying now?”

     “… Be careful.” He warned you.

     “… I will.” A promise. You nodded your head slowly as you looked into his eyes.

    Grillby slowly began to close the distance between the two of you. You kept your eyes locked on his as he moved closer. You could feel the heat of his flames pulsing only a few inches away. He was going to kiss you again. You closed your eyes in anticipation, but, right then… he seemed to pause for a moment; tense up… Opening your eyes again, he looked… pensive. You saw him look away and bite his lip, then withdraw.

     _What was that?_

     He released you from his grasp, then cleared his throat.

     “After you.” He moved to the side and pushed the café door open.

     The cool air hit you, giving you a start. “Thanks...” You mumbled.

     You didn’t really want to leave. No… You wanted to stay in the café a little longer. It looked like he felt the same. As you stepped through the doorway, Grillby spoke up.

     “… About Hare.”

     You glanced at him standing in the doorway. “What is it?”

     Grillby leaned on the open door and combed a hand through his flames. “You don’t have to worry about him. I said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?”

     You snorted sarcastically. “What? Gonna skip out on the bill?”

     He shrugged and looked away. “… Something like that.”

     You laughed and punched his shoulder playfully. You thought he would have sidestepped to dodge as he did with Dogamy, but he held his ground and chuckled instead.

     … Interesting.

     “See you, Grillby. Thanks for the treat.” You flashed him one of your cheeky smiles.

     His flame turned red, and he returned to messing with his glasses.

     You giggled at his reaction. “Charming…” You muttered under your breath as you waved to him as and walked away. He returned it before retreating back into the café.

     Alone outside in the falling winter snow, you missed his warmth… _it was so cold_. It was still snowing. Wouldn’t let up. You passed by the spot where Audrey and you had argued… where Grillby had saved you… It all happened so fast. It truly amazed you how the situation turned out to be in your favor. Audrey had nearly spoiled you, and your breakfast, entirely, but… Grillby changed all of that. He made this one of the best mornings you’d had in months. To have confessed, and been confessed to twice, you felt… loved.

     Well, it was Christmas, after all…

     Maybe miracles do exist.

 

 ----

 

     You restrained yourself from completely biting your fingernails off as you walked into the lobby of your work building. There were a lot of anxieties piling up for sure—you were walking into the home of dashed dreams and missed opportunities. However… all that worry… they were all for differing reasons that all decided to crash down upon you at once. Your shoulders felt heavier than ever.

     For one thing: _Audrey_. She was the last person you wanted to be meeting in the morning. The very last one. After what happened between you two… you would have preferred the ficus by the elevator. Or the public bathrooms. But not her.

     As you pushed the entry door open, you realized… the lobby was eerily void of Audrey. Not people, they were pacing to and from as usual, just… Audrey. She had this habit of coming up and greeting you every other day. It was like it had become an ingrained part of her schedule… Although, you would have removed it if you could have. Now… it seemed like someone else had done the job for you. All thanks to Grillby, you guessed.

     But, thinking of Grillby…

     You hunched your back, kept your head down, and trudged through the lobby to the elevator doors while minding your own business.

     On the walk to work, your thoughts had been plagued with him, and only him. You hadn’t much time to think during breakfast—it was more of… do, but don’t think. Now, you were on the verge of regretting it. How was it possible you had been so rash? Everything you said, how you acted so unseemly casual… You wanted to tear your hair out in retrospect. It could’ve gone way more smoother, you guessed, but you praised yourself for maintaining a sort of… minimum status quo.

    You punched the elevator button, and stood in as you fumed at yourself inwardly.

     You were screwed. Events at breakfast had taken an unexpected turn, no doubt. Started out as a masquerade to fool Audrey. That worked—or, you hoped it did—thus, turning the discussion topic to your work… which somehow fetched you Grillby’s phone number in the process and something of a psych analyzation, or therapy session, you were assuming. Of course, he was a bartender who had probably listened to the drunkard’s tales thousands upon thousands of times, so it didn’t bother you too much. But, after that… when he got protective, jealous, needy… That was also a different side of him, different from what you had seen the day before. Seeing as that you confessed your undying love for him, it was pretty clear whether you liked it or not wasn’t as questionable as you initially thought it was.

     Once the elevator finally came down to your floor and opened its doors to you, a pleasant surprise awaited for you: it was empty! No nuisances, shuffling, and awkward physical contact you’d have to endure for the how-many-minutes up to your floor near the top of the building. It was an old elevator, and it was dreadfully slow. You stepped on, nearly elated despite your distress, and made sure the doors closed before anyone else could get on. You punched the button for your floor, and once again confined yourself to your own thoughts.

     Breakfast with Grillby had revealed two things: one, both of you, coincidentally, had mutually shared romantic feelings for each other. That much was obvious. Second, Hare was a lying, scamming son of a bitch. But, you expected that much from him. Not the first new development. Despite light being shed on those two factors, a plethora of more vexing questions had arisen on the walk to work. Honestly, before this whole predicament… you had no questions. You were fine the way you were. No distractions, no headaches, no inert self-consciousness… Now, all of those grievances were hurdling at you at full speed. Damn it, this was all Hare’s fault.

     Grillby and you liked each other. So, what the hell did that mean? How were you supposed to act around him? How did you not see it before? Oh, _right_. You thought he was joking. You really didn’t know Grillby before the breakfast, and you still didn’t know him after. As far as you knew, he was a nice guy with feelings for you. That was all. No shame in going out with him, but there was common sense in not rushing things, right? If this was a fleeting miracle, you wanted to savor and milk out its best moments… But, wait. He actually didn’t ask you out, did he? What did he say exactly?

     … Eh, well, specifics don’t matter. What mattered was: Grillby confessed to you, but he didn’t ask you out directly. So, how would you actually go about… bringing that topic up again? Mutual feelings probably called for a… relationship? That sounded sensible. Very sensible. Why wouldn’t it make sense? Or, was that asking too much? Was that too good to be true? Was this too good to be true?

     You still couldn’t make sense of anything even when you stepped out of the elevator and shambled over to your office cubicle.

     … Maybe that was too complicated. The whole relationship thing. As you were, you were content. Grillby liked you, and you liked Grillby. That was the big picture, and you chose to stick with it. As you said, no use… hurrying things along if they were fine as is. You were starting to find out Grillby was not as flirtatious as you thought him to be on day one. He was… slipping. It was clear… he was holding himself back, actually. The day before was only slight passes. It was more like… low-key flirting of some kind. Today, he was much more… constrictive of his motions. After Audrey went away, he tried to minimalize contact with you, and… you believed he stopped short of kissing you right before you left the café. You didn’t want to call him desperate, because… that’d be calling yourself desperate as well, considering you two were in the exact same situation before the whole breakfast thing.

     Some of your colleagues passed you as you walked across the floor… they probably greeted you, or something, but you only mumbled some pleasantries before excusing yourself to your cubicle. You needed to sit down there and think for a while. Just a few minutes. Sitting and thinking before your boss caught you slacking off. You threw your jacket onto the chair at your desk, and began mindlessly arranging the various knick knacks resting on your desk as a physical distraction.

     Grillby, Grillby, Grillby, Grillby... What were you supposed to do with all these thoughts of him? He was such a mystery to you… even so, you wanted to know more about him. Spend more time with him. Be by his side. Thinking of all the complicated things… it was useless. Grillby and you would make that move when you two were ready—if you would ever be ready. It didn’t matter, though. You reminded yourself of your roots, how this whole thing started: you loved being around him. His presence soothed you, brought you a sense of security your own house couldn’t give you. As long as you could be by his side, everything would be alright. Relationship status, his thoughts on you, and your thoughts on him… everything blended together when you focused back on the core concept: everything would be okay, and everything would work out.

     When you booted up your desktop computer and began typing in your username, the clicking of the keys on the keyboard were drowned out by your own pleasant thoughts. You put your previous mornings on rewinds, played it in your mind like reruns of a favorite television special. Not Virus, but an actual television special. The best kind. It brought you… peace. The workday was chaotic, the office was hectic, but you, in your own cubicle… it was paradise in its own way.

     From morning to noon, no one seemed to pay much attention to you. It was… new. Your boss was too occupied with something else. You heard rumors of this and that here and there, but he was out of the office, and that was all you cared for. Audrey, on the other hand… she was, also, nowhere to be found. She wasn’t in her cubicle when you glanced over. If she was at work, she would have made her presence known to you already… like, by flirting with her cohorts. So, unless she was camping out in your garbage can… she wasn’t at work. At all. For the most part, everyone had seemed to avoid you. It was like they could sense you were offbeat today… and, by offbeat, you were too upbeat. No one wanted to mess with you, lest they become victim to your passive aggressive wrath and anger… so that was nice.

     Your day had got off to such a bad start, all these pleasant surprises made you feel like you were on cloud nine. You were alone, for once. The coffee machine got set on fire again, sure. Someone accidentally copied their ass on the copier again, and someone faxed the copies to their client on accident, sure. Someone let loose a coop of chickens in the office again, sure. That was fine; that was normal. You dealt with the problems as they came (mostly by barricading your cubicle entrance), but… everything was surprisingly okay. You were taking everything in stride. Either you or everyone else got really good at their jobs, or you just stopped giving a shit. Having breakfast with Grillby had washed away a good deal of your negativity for that day.

     The time ticked away as you filed through paperwork, sorted through reports, and took phone calls as they came. Your lunch break was coming up, and you were looking forward to enjoying that in peace as well. You only had about thirty minutes, so your options were severely limited, but… you were looking forward to a break. Your eyes were starting to get groggy, anyways. A little stretch here and there would help you out a lot. So, what would it be? Greasy fast food? Expired lounge food? Stolen food from someone else in the lounge? Your mind hummed at the choices.

     Distracted with work, and what was on the menu for lunch, you nearly failed to notice the angry mob that stormed through the elevator doors. What had you notice the group… was the eerie silence of the floor that accompanied their arrival. You couldn’t make their chatter out completely. All you could hear were… bits and pieces of their conversation. There was some faint radio static here and there, and… nonstop blathering from the supposed device. _A police radio._ Despite that, you sort of inferred that… whatever these people wanted, you were uninvolved. You hadn’t done anything wrong in the first place, so why incriminate yourself now?

     “The suspect is… yes, they’re that tall, and they look like…” You froze up at the gruff voice that reached your ears. The description you heard… sounded a lot like you.

     You ceased your typing, settling into the uneasy silence that surrounded you. The voice wasn’t too far off. It was several cubicles away, closer to the elevator, but you could still hear it. You felt a cold sweat begin to perspire. You didn’t like the looks of this. The footsteps and voices were getting closer and closer to your general vicinity. If this wasn’t aimed for you, it would be an impressively close call.

     The only other people surrounding you were innocent. Idiots, at best, but… still innocent. They weren’t the type of people for a criminal record. You checked their backgrounds accordingly, they were later hires… You knew you had to get out of there, and fast.

     You moved with extreme fluidity, not wasting a second, or an empty hand. You force shut down your computer, arranged everything on your desk, and tidied the place up as if a king was coming to visit. You draped your coat over your shoulders, and resumed the same posture you took on downstairs… head lowered, shoulders high, back hunched… but to a lesser degree. Otherwise would make you look conspicuous as hell. You tiptoed out of your cubicle slowly, and turned the corner. Just as you did, you pressed your back to the wall and slid down a few inches to obscure the top of your head…

     As you had predicted, you heard a symphony of footsteps orchestrating in your cubicle as several thumps rang out. The vibrations left echoes along the pockets of your vertebrae, elevating your franticness. Without another moment’s hesitation, you pushed yourself off the wall and began as brisk a walk as possible to the stairs. That seemed like the most reasonable escape route… the window, seeing as you were on a high floor, would be your… last resort. You could feel the blood pulsing through your veins and your heart threatening to leap right out of your throat and onto the floor at your feet. It was painful, stressful. You had no idea what was going on, but you could sense yourself in grave danger. You meekly bid the coworkers past farewell, leaving a trail of murmurs in your wake. Some of them looked like they wanted to ask, some looked like they wanted nothing to do with you. The more latter, the better.

     As you reached the doorway to the stairwell, you froze up. The echoing sound… boots against metal. You pressed your ear to the door—you could hear it. Boots. Several of them. Office workers didn’t wear military boots into office; that was for sure. Your first instinct was to run, your second was to walk. You opted for the second, the more reasonable of the two. You made a ninety degree turn away from the stairway to serenely hightail your ass all the way to the elevator. Scanning the coast… taking everything into account, it was relatively clear. No one shady, none of those savages that had torn apart your cubicle… not like you could care any less.

     The coast was clear and your path was to your choosing. You walked up to the elevator with ease. You jabbed the elevator button with an average amount of force, and coolly awaited its arrival. No sense in panicking before the inevitable. Whatever happened to you now… was out of your hands. There was nothing else you could do except pray. You could hear shouting coming from the stairwell outside the office floor, the door knob beginning to jostle itself open. Yelling from behind you, yelling from beside… It was all too obvious you were being flanked. You gulped your fears down your throat. The elevator would be there soon… with your scarf and hood on, you shouldn’t have been identified. There was no shame in waiting there for the elevator like normal people did. You were a normal person… probably.

     As if it was some kind of godsend at your own convenience, the elevator doors slid open. You would be meeting salvation soon enough. What was that… the familiar chime and elevator music? It was a torture to silence on regular days, but you could not have been met with such a peaceful noise at that moment. You pranced off into the elevator’s wide open embrace to escape the ensuing cops hot on your trial…

     But, that would have just been too good, wouldn’t it?

     “There they are.”

     That voice.

     You sniffed the air.

     Ah, and that _perfume_.

     Before the elevator doors could even open completely, you were met with an elbow jab to your waist and the rough acquisition of your arm. In your best interest, you rag dolled. Looking at the perpetrator… lo and behold, it was a full-fledged law enforcement officer… A couple had come back the way from your desk, and from the stairwell. The others… they were in the elevator. Just how many did they need to sack you? Or even flank you? Were you that much of a threat? Wow, feeling like a million bucks today, huh?

     “Easy on the jacket, fellas; it’s a designer.” You scoffed sarcastically as another officer pat down your clothing in search of any weapons.

     “You have the right to remain silent… was it?”

     You knew who it was before they even stepped out of the elevator behind their guards.

     When the person in question stepped out onto the open floor, you were glad security was holding you back. Otherwise, you would have been sure to decorate her face with a pretty punch or two. That’s right. It was her: Audrey.

     “Fancy meeting you here again.” Her mocking voice was so blatantly laced with disgust.

     Honestly, you couldn’t care less. It was a taste of your own medicine. You deserved that, but not… this. Your senses returned to the painful grip on your arm by some security guard at your hip. Scouting the situation thoroughly, you found it incredibly hard to believe Audrey had the audacity to request your removal. And, _on what fucking grounds?_

     “If I may be so bold to ask, your highness, exactly… what am I being manhandled for?” You shook your arm to emphasize your state of affairs, but the grip on your person tightened in response. Your comical allusions would probably land you somewhere worse than the jailhouse next… or wherever Audrey was willing to throw you. If you were fortunate enough, it’d be the jail and not her bed. Anyhow, you had the right to know the charges, right? That was probably in the law book… somewhere.

     Audrey shook her head, and clicked her tongue at you disappointedly. “Don’t act like you don’t remember.”

     “What?” You grit your teeth together and frowned at her. The delusional bitch masquerade was getting to be a bit much now. “Are you going on about your wet dreams again? Listen, I heard you before, but I—“

     “Guard, roll up their sleeves.”

     “My sleeves?” You were prepared to pester her further, when a guard rudely interrupted you by yanking your sleeves up.

     The scratches and bruises on your wrists that Audrey had given you earlier that day were exposed in the office light. All the guards’ eyes were on you and Audrey. Audrey had this… self-righteously dignified look on her face. Conceited. Pompous. Victorious.

     “Let me refresh your memory a bit.” She took a step forward imposingly, and leaned down in front of you to meet you, hunched over, eye to eye. “Don’t you remember? Even if you fucked me mercilessly, I gave you hell.” She shot you a crooked smile.

     “What the fuck are you on about? I did no such thing!” The guards restrained you from getting any closer to her. God, if she were just a few inches closer, you could nick her fucking nose…

     “It’s called… oh, I don’t know…” she tapped a finger to her chin, “self-defense from assault.” You opened your mouth to retort, but she raised a hand to stop you. “Oh, no use lying. I have evidence of your presence there too.” She reached her hand into her pocket, and out of it she pulled…

     Your gloves.

     “Bullshit!” You snarled viciously, “I’ve been missing those for a goddamn month!”

     She crouched down a little more and twirled her index finger in your hair. “You should be grateful you’re only getting fired. If I wanted to, I could bring you to court for—“

     That was it. There was the line. You had had e-fucking-nough.

     You propelled yourself forward in the guards’ grasp and snapped at Audrey, getting a good chunk out of her hand. She shrieked in pain as her knees collapsed under her, and her ass met the ground unceremoniously.

     Everything after that… happened almost too fast for you to recall.

     Audrey’s hand was still in your mouth while she was falling. Your jaw was locked, and you were fucking pissed. If there wasn’t a guard holding onto you, you were sure you would have ripped her pretty ass into shreds. When Audrey flailed in a hopeless attempt to shake you off, you just bit down harder, sending your prey into hysterics. Soon after, a guard tackled you to the ground, knocking the wind out of your lungs. You hit the carpeted ground with a thud as the security guards restrained you.

     _Heavy ass bastards._

     As everyone rushed to Audrey’s side to tend to the bite mark on her hand, she looked down at you scornfully. Her wounds were treated on the spot with a first aid kit as you laid pressed down to the floor.

     Haha, you had snagged a patch of her skin on your teeth and ripped it clean off. Served her right. You could taste some traces of blood on your tongue. It tasted a lot like… sweet, sweet _revenge_. “If I’m supposed to be your dog,” you licked your bloody lips in chaotic bemusement, “better put me on a leash.”

     “Throw them out!” Audrey stomped her foot against the ground as she screamed, and the guards followed her command to the tee. They dragged you down a less-than-relaxing elevator ride, then across the lobby. They flung you out of the doors without so much as a word of notice. When your ass hit ground next, it connected with the hard pavement of the sidewalk. The group of guards that had flanked you on the upper floor divided themselves up in duties: two were posted in the front, and the rest seemed to retreat back into the shithole you were thrown out of. If you weren’t in such a bind, you would have been grateful.

     Not a moment later, something hard collided with your head, and you fell back onto the pavement completely from the impact.

     “What the fuck was that…” you groaned as you dragged off the previously airborne projectile… It was your bag, and all your belongings, it seemed like. You shot a sour look at the guards at the front who you presumed had thrown them at you, but they stood there completely unaffected by your dagger eyes, or anything for that matter. Realizing they were resolved to remain unmoving, you exasperatedly picked up any spilled contents off of the frozen sidewalk, and picked yourself up eventually. Straightening your clothes, you noticed your jacket had come onto some new tears and stains that would need some washing and sewing. You sighed deeply at the thought of additional work, and quickly shook those thoughts from your head.

     Taking a step back from your work… your previous work building, you tilted your head upwards to survey hell in all its shimmering glory. Slivers of sunlight reflected off the snow ridden glass panes that scaled the structure, leaving no surface untouched by its translucent properties. If you squinted, you probably could have seen some of your coworkers sticking their asses out to you, armed and ready to shit their heart’s contents out on your pitiful self.

     And, no matter how you looked at it… you had just been fired from your job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be continued... eventually
> 
> you can send me asks via [tumblr](http://grillby.ml/) to hurry the hell up, fix mistakes, or w/e u want tbh  
> also feel free to leave comments too those are cool  
> thanks for reading chapter 2 lmao  
> [also posted on my tumblr](http://grillby.ml/post/139413115628/the-caf%C3%A9-grillbyreader-ch2)


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